A fan work - the August Agency

Writing happened again. It’s completely out of my control now. I just have to go with it.

Chapter 38: Lord Dryden’s Manor

Month 12, Day 19, 8:00AM

“He’s back in the city.” Poe said. Marie figured that, after Frank had returned with his initial success, he liked to check his tracking spell several times a day. For several days, Sebastien had not appeared.

“Do you want me to stay here?”

“Not this time. As a student, he doesn’t have any obligations on a Saturday. If I follow him closely all day long, he may notice, and he’s clever enough that he might notice something wrong.”

Marie was dressed in her less formal black dress, but she wore The Boots all the time. The Boots never scuffed, hardly made a sound, protected her legs from all sorts of weather, and generally made Marie interested in enchantment. She’d read the chapter on enchantment in the primer three times, even though Poe hadn’t covered it yet.

“I’m ready to go.” Marie got up from her desk and slipped a her notebook into pocket. She stopped carrying a knife, but she did not feel like she could fight any better with a stick. Poe had barely shown her anything. “Do you think this will be … dangerous?”

“No. It’s more likely to be boring.” Poe looked at her for a moment. “Bring your cloak.”

“What are we going to do about the spies?”

“How do you feel about escape via windows?”

Twenty minutes later, after crawling out the back windows into an unguarded alley, Frank led Marie out to a street where they hailed a cab for the upper part of the city. Poe had kept a slate to run his divination and locate Silverling. When they finally left the cab, they found themselves in a neighborhood filled with large manor homes. Poe spotted Silverling first; the young man rounded a corner and strode toward one of the larger homes. With little formality, opened the gate and headed inside. He didn’t even wait for a servant to greet him at the door.

Across the street, Marie and Poe had followed him behind and watched him enter the solid stone manor house.

“Do you think that’s Silverling’s manor?” Marie asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t recognize it. It looks like …” Poe muttered to himself. “Keep an eye out. I’m going to find out.”

Poe strode toward the house, leaving Marie behind. When he reached the door, he rapped sharply using the knocker. A well-dressed footman opened the door immediately. Poe said something, and the footman shook his head. Frank took a step back, and looked at the house as if he’d never seen a manor before. He shrugged, and left. When he returned to Marie, he had a chipper expression.

“It appears that this is the home of Lord Dryden.”

“What did you say?”

“I asked if my old friend from University was in. Of course, I had to apologize for disturbing the house. Very sorry of course, I had the house number flipped.” Poe smiled. “‘Of course, silly me. Whose house was this?’” Poe imitated a noble foppish accent, “and they told me right away.”

“That worked?”

“Provided there’s a house at the other address, which I am sure there is, there is no reason for his servants to be suspicious. Unless we keep standing here. Let’s go for a little walk.”

And they did. They strolled around the manor, and took in the tall privacy fencing, the well appointed stables in the back, and the sound of horses being well cared for.

“Do you know Lord Dryden?”

“Not well. He runs in … let’s call it different social circles than I once did. He’s been the sort that likes to run charities and lives off what is left of a family legacy from Osham. He’s not entirely idle or anything. I think he breeds some sort of magical horses. Just the sort of person that would sponsor a talented thaumaturge from a less well-off or even distant nobility.”

“How do you think they met?”

“That is a good question, and it won’t be easy to find an answer; or rather, it will be easy to find the answer that Lord Dryden might have spread around.”

“What do we do now? You don’t think … Lord Dryden has a link to the Raven Queen?”

Poe didn’t answer right away.

“We do not know enough to know.” Poe finally replied. “If I recall correctly, Osham’s government wiped out Lord Dryden’s family. If the Raven Queen were an Osham spy, one might suggest that Lord Dryden would be some sort of handler for her, but that does not seem right. Spies work hard not to be noticed. The Raven Queen is no spy, otherwise she would have faded to obscurity and left the city. It doesn’t seem that she has.”

“So, now what?”

“Take this token.” Poe handed Marie a silvery metal coin. “I can find you with it if need be, but I don’t think this is a particularly dangerous street. Pretend to be waiting for a friend at the corner, watch the house, and I’ll go get a breakfast.”

‘Why pretend?’ Marie thought. ‘I will be waiting for a friend at the corner.’

So, she waited at the corner until Poe returned with a warm sandwich of some kind, wrapped in a waxed paper and with a sweet peppery flavor.

They stood at the corner, and ate. The street wasn’t very busy, but no one walking past seemed to have found their little standing lunch unusual. Poe glanced at Dryden Manor occasionally.

“We are being watched from the house.” Poe said.

“Should we move?”

“We’ll have to. I could create an unnoticability ward of some kind; it’s a sort of anti-divination technique. But, I’d be noticeable when I set it up. We will have to find a less noticeable spot to set up a divination, to detect comings and goings, and then watch that.”

“You don’t think the Raven Queen is in there, do you?”

“I can only guess. This is a nice neighborhood. Lots of people gossiping about the neighbors. Servants. Other people who would be eager to take a man like Dryden down a notch. If the Raven Queen used this place as a base of operations, she’d have been caught already. But …” Poe lingered on the thought.

‘But,’ Marie thought, ‘we can’t know. The Raven Queen is a ghost, appearing and disappearing without any trace.’

The finished the sandwiches, then they walked to past the manor, and Poe dropped something close to the front gate. Marie thought about picking it up, but then, she didn’t see where it fell. That was odd. It should have been …

“Keep walking. Your attention does you credit, but we need to keep moving.” Poe whispered to her.

When they turned the corner and were walking away, Poe murmured to her. “I dropped one of my trackers. It has an unnoticability charm on it, which is why you looked right at it, but didn’t see it. I’ll have to refresh the enchantment tomorrow, but today if Silverling leaves with his student token, I’ll know it.”

They walked to a nearby park where they sat on a bench and Poe set up a small divining array.

“What now?”

“Well, there’s two enchantments on that little tracker that I can monitor. One is Silverling’s token. If his token leaves the house, we can follow it. But, there’s also a charm for anyone that leaves the house. It’s a older spying artifact I created some time ago.” Poe grinned conspiratorially. “What’s the point of being a sorcerous investigator if you don’t cheat a little?”

They spent the rest of the day in the park, but as evening approached, Poe wanted Marie to return to the agency. At first he intended to walk with her, but she insisted that she was not a child and she was perfectly capable of sneaking back into the Agency on her own.

As the sky turned orange she was a few blocks away, when Jemnie walked out of an alley as she passed by, and matched her quick steps.

“So, you were out?”

Marie kept herself from muttering a curse. Jemnie had apparently become too clever. But, how had he decided to watch this side of office?

“Does that even require an answer?”

“You’re start’n to talk like him now.”

“Apprentice.” Marie pointed to herself.

“So, where’d you go?”

“That’s confidential. So, did you get sick of watching the office?”

“No.” Marie heard from behind her. Marie reversed and put her back to the wall, to see who had spoken. Cory had been strolling along behind. Marie found herself stopped and confronting the pair. Annoyed pedestrians—walking home from work—stepped around them on the pavement.

“Surprised to see me?” Cory said.

“Great. Now there are two of you.”

“Technically, your boy was follow’n me.” Cory replied. “I was the one that found out you weren’t in the office.”

“Not my boy.” Marie muttered. “How did you figure it out?”

“I’ve been taking notes!” Cory said proudly. “You and your fella go out for lunch or breakfast near everyday. Except today, you didn’t go out at all.”

“He’s not my fella. He’s my … he’s a detective ok? I work for him.”

“Yeah?” Jemnie said. “You got a new pair of boots somewhere.”

“He was apologizing for …” Marie realized she’d have to explain the aberrant, and didn’t want to. “Things.” She finally said.

“Sure.” Cory replied skeptically. Jemnie nodded.

Marie huffed and started briskly walking toward the office. There wasn’t any reason to sneak in the back now. The two spies just followed along like puppies.

‘When did those two become friends anyway?’ Marie thought.

Just as the sky faded to the purplish of evening, and the lamps were lit, Marie entered the front of the August Agency.

At least the two spies separated and took up opposite positions down the street. Marie went into the office, bringing the primer with her to Poe’s desk, where she turned on the reading light and started reading the chapter on the third empire.

She was still reading late into the night, although she could barely keep her attention on the history of a bunch of dead people, and she felt worried that Poe had stayed out very late, when Poe finally returned. He came in through the front door as well.

“Why are you doing up at this hour?” Poe asked. “Waiting for me?”

“Yes, and also reading.” Marie replied. She felt so tired. How did he keep awake for so long? “I wanted to tell you something, but I’m too tired to remember.”

“Spies out back?”

“Yeah, that’s it. The spies knew we snuck out the back.”

“I saw one on the way in, so I just came around the front. It’s that girl with the notebook, isn’t it?”

“Cory. Yes. But, Jemnie was smart enough to follow her while she looked for us. So, Morrows and the Stags know. We didn’t go out to eat.” Marie yawned. Her nervousness about Poe had worn off, and now, her eyes felt heavy.

“It’s nice to see you making friends your own age.”

Marie giggled. “Jemnie is younger than me.”

“Come on.” Poe replied. “Let’s get you to bed. I am going to nap and then monitor Silverling from here. Also, I have something for you. I’ll give it to you in the morning.”

As Marie sleepily headed to her rooms, she wondered what Poe’s gift would be.

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I dunno if I was thinking about this when I wrote Marie, but maybe I was. https://youtu.be/w_VvjVZIUJc?si=DOruWW0iqhuS6uf7

Chapter 39: Doesn’t Seem the Type

Marie

Month 12, Day 19, 10:00AM

Marie never slept in. For one thing, to visit her Mama, she needed to be awake early. Even if the visits were temporarily stopped, the habit of waling early stuck with her.

Waking up well into the morning felt disturbingly unnatural to her.

On the other hand, Marie did not sleep well, and she’d gone to bed late after an already tiring day.

Nor did Poe wake her. By the time she got down to the office, Poe had already left. On her table was a silk bound journal in a soft pink cover, and a note. The note read:

This is an enchanted journal that will let us communicate at a distance. I have the other one in the pair. The range is limited to the city, but it was still quite expensive, so take good care of it. To communicate with me, the maker includes a special pen. Write, and when I check the journal, I’ll see what you wrote. If a prospective client stops by, write to me.Keep the the journal handy, in case I need you to join me for our observation of Silverling. He did not move last night, although the master of the house is coming and going late into the night. I have gotten a story from a neighbor that he is quite a the social butterfly, attending crown family parties but also “slumming” in bars and investing in businesses. For lessons today, I would like you to review the primer’s chapters on the construction of buildings, and the practice the exercises for good penmanship focusing on loops.

Marie frowned at the pink cover. It had flowers on it. ‘Would it have been too much to ask that Master Poe find a magical journal in black?’ She thought.

Then she felt a little guilty, because Poe allowed her a great deal of trust to give her an enchantment of this quality, then she worried about his expenditure. Unless they found the Raven Queen, how much had this surveillance cost? The August Agency needed real work. Marie wondered who this Mariner was, and how much the Mariner would pay the Agency.

Dinky and Mama didn’t visit either. And Marie began to worry about them as well. Poe kept sneaking out and thwarting the Morrow spies. Eventually, that might not go well. At least the Stags didn’t appear to have spent the resources to watch the back and the front at the same time. Marie couldn’t see the street from the office, because Poe had put bookshelves on every wall covering even the windows. But, Marie could see the street from her third floor room, and yet again, Jemnie stood on one corner and Cory on the other.

They looked cold.

Marie though about inviting Jemnie in, but then that wouldn’t appear neutral, so, she’d have to invite Cory in too. If she was honest, she didn’t want both of them underfoot while she worked on her studies. The feud between the two gangs made her life troublesome.

Marie had to settle for reading and Poe’s assigned writing practice. She even voluntarily spent an hour exercising. In the afternoon, Poe finally wrote her a message:

Come to the park; tonight would be an ideal time for Silverling to contact the Raven Queen. I need an extra set of eyes. Lose the spies however you think is best. Use a cab, as necessary, if you can’t just sneak out the back window. A Lonsdale cab is usually stationed at the corner of Stage St., which is a blind, so if you can get a block ahead of them, you will be able to grab that and meet me at the little park we’ve been using. If you can’t, write to me when you are close and I’ll give you instruction.

Marie felt a trill of excitement. She would finally help Poe with Silverling. She changed into her nicest dress, and checked the window. The two spies still watched the front door. She thought about it for a moment, and concluded they needed to see her and think she wasn’t avoiding them first.

A few minutes later, she walked out the front of the August Agency, right past the two spies to see if they would follow. Jemnie did, but Cory did not. Marie wasn’t sure what was going on there, but she stopped at a street vendor and bought two boxes of a fried rice with bits of vegetable, a mysterious brown sauce, and a single shrimp per serving. She wrapped the boxes in a large cloth, giving all the world the impression she intended to eat a late lunch with Poe.

It might not fool Cory, or didn’t fool Cory, But, if she could fool him, then that would at least be one fewer pair of eyes to lose. She strode confidently into the office, then locking the door quietly.

Without pause she moved to the back, and snuck out the window. The alley appeared clear, but even though Marie smiled at her luck, she cautiously headed to Stage Street. Poe mentioned a new alternative he was going to develop, but whatever he had planned, it wasn’t likely that he would have it place so long as he followed Silverling.

Marie knew well enough how to watch for someone following her, and she didn’t see anyone. Even so, when she made it to a can green and black livery, she hopped into the open seat.

“Where to, young miss?”

Marie frowned at the slightly patronizing tone. Annoyed at this tone Marie snapped the address a bit more rudely than she would have preferred. She opened the journal and wrote a note to Poe: ‘On my way. No obvious followers.’

She arrived at the park after quick chilly ride through the busy streets. When she hopped out, Poe strode out of the park and greeted her, and help her get out of the cab. He paid the cab driver Marie even had a chance to reach for the money in a pocket,

“You brought food? How thoughtful.” Poe told her.

“It might keep them confused.” Marie replied. “I bought it in front of the spies, so the wouldn’t check the office.”

The cab pulled away and back into the street and headed back toward the Mires.

“That was good thinking. Too bad it didn’t work on the Stags. Did you notice?”

“Notice what?”

“The Green Antlers on the cab.”

Marie suddenly felt cold. She’d lead the Stags right to him.

“Oh no, I forgot to check the cab company!” Marie said.

“Don’t worry about it.” Poe gave her a small smile. “This is a public place, and while it is close to our surveillance target, it will take the cabbie a while to get to back to Stag territory and tell them where we are. We’ll just relocate.”

Poe moved them up the street to a bigger park farther away. They sat and ate on a slightly cold bench, but Poe warmed the food with a quick spell. Marie found it warming and filling. They discussed the progress on watching Silverling. Poe noted the Silverling did not seem to be moving. Poe noted the household had been busy late into the night, and Lord Dryden appeared to be quite busy - leaving late and returning even later. Poe was not following him, but he told Marie he expected to consult Frig about him.

By the afternoon, even with the cold, idle young people walked by the bench gossiping. Marie mostly ignored them, until a pair of men in pressed uniforms walking by slowed. One was slightly thicker one with a jaded look, and the other one was younger and athletic. The young one said to the other. “Wait, is that her?”

Marie stiffened. Had the Stags already found them?

“No. You keep jumping at shadows like this, and the captain will discipline you. Again.”

“But, she’s got long black hair, and she looks a little Raven-like, right?”

Marie heard the jaded one huff. She shrunk down on the bench a little. She recognized the insignia and the gold-and-midnight blue uniform. They never ventured to the Mires, but everyone knew the High Crown’s insignia; it was on every coin in Gilbratha.

Poe stood up sharply.

“And, she can hear you just fine. If you think the Raven Queen is just sitting on a park bench, in the middle of the day, then you are quite mistaken.” Poe said rather loudly.

“Excuse us sir, but we must follow up on all leads.” The younger man said.

“Move along sir. This young girl is not the Raven queen. She is too pale, too short, and too young.” Poe replied cooly. “Your captain would not take kindly to the complaint I will file if you continue down this line of incompetence.”

Poe’s posture reminded her of a certain sort of man, and remembering gave her a pit in her stomach.

The clientele of the Hands, Hearts and Palms occasionally included men who had crown blood. Once, demanded that he have private use of a masseuse into the evening, privately, at his manse. He brought the masseuse — a girl named Shirelie’s — before Madame. Marie happened to be doing a tally for Madame, so she ended up watching the entire thing out of the corner of her eye.

Even in the face of the lord’s commanding posture and arrogant attitude, Madam politely declined. In blatant violation of Crown law, he practically tried to buy the girl. Madame eventually convinced him that he could better spend his coin elsewhere.

Even knowing what they did at the parlor, Marie saw the terrified look in the Shirelie’s eyes. Marie later found out the girl was convinced that if she left with him, she might not come back. Even Mama agreed. It had happened before, when they first opened. Nothing seemed to restrain a Crown scion.

Marie hated those corrupt aristocrats. The world revolved around them, and if they had the money to buy, they expected you to sell.

In that moment, Marie realized Poe was one of them, or so close the difference did not matter. His firm tone, posture, and unblinking stare intimidated even Crown guard. Ambivalent felling warred in her chest; he was protecting her, but he also sounded possessive and controlling.

‘How well do I know Poe?’ Marie thought. ‘He is … a little dangerous, isn’t he?’ Marie began thinking about her Mama’s warnings. ‘Is this who he really is?’

The two men looked between themselves. The older shrugged.

“I can see we are mistaken. This girl is too young, too small, and not dark enough to be the Raven Queen.”

“That’s right.” Poe said. He sat back down, pointedly ignoring the pair. They continued on down the street.

Marie and Poe sat in silence for a moment.

“I could have handled that.” Marie eventually said.

“Maybe you could.” Poe conceded. “I … am sorry. Those men are dangerous for you. They could take you away and … I don’t want you to be hurt. If I have to act entitled to keep you safe, then I will.” He sighed.

“Was it acting?”

Poe seemed to think about that, and eventually he said, “I’m not that person anymore.”

Marie wasn’t so sure.

Regardless, they stayed on the bench, with Poe scrying occasionally. Several times, they strolled over to the Lord Dryden’s home and watched the comings and goings as the little scrying coin sensed movement. Poe was using some sort black powder to see watch for movement on a map; it vibrated and distorted and would radiate in spiral waves. Marie couldn’t understand quite what Poe was looking for.

On one of their periodic walks to watch the front door of the manor, Marie asked if Silverling had moved.

“His token has not.” Frank touched his glasses, watching the gate for a moment.

“Are your glasses … magic?” Marie whispered to him.

“They have spell arrays in them, yes.” Poe replied. “I am just checking their wards. Plenty of of antiscrying wards keep me from checking the contents of the manor, and I don’t think I could sneak anything in either. It seems Lord Dryden is more paranoid than I thought. There has been a lot of movement.”

“What now?”

“I think Silvering will be moving tonight, if nothing else, he may return to the University or try to meet with a contact or the Raven Queen.” Poe explained to Marie what he had in mind. After nightfall, they would set up on either end of the street, waiting for Silverling to move. In the dark, they would harder to spot, but Silverling should be visible in the light of the house.

Marie stood on her end of the street long after the lamps were lit, trying to keep to the shadows. Marie tried hard to keep off boredom, recalling the various glyphs Poe had been teaching her and checking her grimoire to see if she had memorized them correctly.

A carriage came up to the manor, and she thought she saw Silverling open the front door and stride toward it. Just as she opened the enchanted journal, she read Poe’s hasty scrawl.

Silverling doesn’t have his token. Run over a block, we’ll follow in a cab.

Marie headed straight for the cab, and Poe arrived just a few moments later. He had a hushed and quick conversation with the driver, and they hopped in. They took off, with the horse setting up at a brisk trot. Turning two corners, they arrived just quickly enough for them to see the expensive black carriage pull away from the manor.

Following behind, they moved through the city, downhill somewhat, but still in a part of town nice enough to business’ signs with writing on them. and finally arrived at a cream-colored building that Marie knew well enough she didn’t need to read the sign.

As Silverling left the carriage, Marie was close enough to hear the carriage driver comment, “have fun milord.” Silverling stepped out of the carriage without a backward glance, and walked straight to the building.

“It’s the Silk Door.” Marie whisper to Poe as they hopped from the cab and Poe paid the cabbie. “He’s going in there?”

Poe nodded. They stood across the street and watched Silverling enter. Poe had Marie wait before they moved toward the door. He seemed reluctant to go into the elegant creamy brick building, and they stood at the corner watching.

“He doesn’t seem like the type.”

“Why?” Marie was genuinely baffled. She’d seen all sorts of men at the massage parlor. The men she’d met always seemed to crave sex, except Poe, maybe. She reserved judgement; he at least wasn’t open about it. In her experience, men might be kind or cruel, but they all wanted sex.

“He’s very attractive, wouldn’t you say?”

“I suppose.” Marie didn’t know what would make a man attractive, but Silverling did dress well, and his hair did make him striking.

“I met some girls who definitely thought so. They looked at him like a fisherman eyeing a big catch. On the other hand, he behaves as if money is important to him. He sold Ennis’ clothes to a fence, and I saw him try to sell a chunk of cerelium, and he was indignant when he didn’t get a good price.”

“But, the Silk Door is high class, and expensive.” Marie replied. Of course, maybe quality mattered to him?

“An attractive boy like that can get a girl to bed if he wanted. Now, maybe he has esoteric taste, but Silverling does not seem like the type to visit a brothel.”

“He could have a friend there.” Marie replied. Marie knew the Silk Door was more than a workplace. Like the Hands, Hearts, and Palms, the workers treated the place as a home. In many ways, a sex worker only felt safe among each other. No one cared about them, so they had to care about each other.

Poe nodded. “I had not thought of that, but that would explain it.”

“It’s run by the Stags. Not openly, but the Hands, Hearts, and Palms knows about it. We had some defectors.” Marie observed.

“Stags is it?” Poe raised an eyebrow. “Another connection. Do you think the Raven Queen might hide there … No, I’m sure the Coppers swept places like this.”

Marie nodded. “Coppers came through the Hands, Hearts, and Palms, searched all the rooms, and questioned everyone. Several times. All the sex work places got swept. Coppers must figure that the Raven Queen could hide among women who work in the business. Maybe it has to do with where her father was found. Anyway, she wouldn’t be able to hide long at the Silk Door.”

“But, exotic women come and go from that place. She might just sneak in and out. Go watch the back door; you’ll draw less attention than me. I’ll stay out here and watch for Silverling.”

“You think I might see the Raven Queen?”

“It’s possible; keep a careful watch for either Silverling or Naught.”

Marie walked around the building till she could get a view of the back doors. She noticed women, and some men, did come and go, but none of them looked like Silverling or the Raven Queen.

She found herself looking at her journal at one point, as her attention had wandered. When she looked up, she didn’t see anyone. At least, she didn’t notice the Raven Queen walk past her into the night.

Later, a pair of women took a break and came outside to chat and cool off, and Marie walked a little closer to hear what they might be saying.

“I had another customer want me to dress up in black and them in a copper uniform,” the taller black-haired woman giggled, “and have them pretend to catch me as the Raven Queen.”

“Shh. Don’t use her name; she might hear you.” The blonde replied.

The other woman scoffed. “That’s just superstition.”

“Yeah, but what if she could hear? I heard from a customer that she was behind the alarms the other day. She seduced two coppers and used them to loose an invisible abberant.”

“That was false alarm. A prank. The coppers just got drunk on duty.”

“That’s just what the papers want us to believe! Even if it not true, can you be sure? You tempt fate calling her name. What will you do if the Raven Queen hears?”

“They tipped well. A little danger makes it exciting for them, I guess.” The dark haired woman shrugged. “Playing dress up has been in demand lately.”

The other sighed. “This is true. I’ve even had some that don’t want any of the usual stuff at all; just lounging around in something more comfortable and chatting about ‘girl’ things. I charge ‘em all the same. Still, I’d not want to piss off the dark lady. I heard she travels the shadows and visits the nightmares of her enemies.”

If calling the Raven Queen’s name was enough to bring her, Marie figured she and Poe would have met her by now. They’d said her name dozens of times today alone, and Marie hadn’t seen anything.

Hours passed, and eventually, Marie felt her attention waiver, and just fail. Had someone come in? Marie felt too muddled to say. Marie had to signal Poe that she was too tired to continue. A few minutes later, Poe signaled that Silverling had left via the front. They managed to trail him back to Lord Dryden’s Manor, and then gave up for the night. If he’d met the Raven Queen at the brothel, neither the gossipy girls nor the surveillance had turned up anything.


Sorry if my grammar checking has been bad. I’ve been writing while tired a lot lately, and this results in odd word choices with misspellings and missing words. I had a realization the other day about how I was going to handle a few plot elements, so I’m really getting excited about finishing up the story.

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The Ward Strikes again. I do like how subtly the appearance of it was, as they don’t even notice the fact that they didn’t notice. Mostly because they weren’t aware they werent supposed to notice, but still. I wonder how they’ll get around that, if they even can.

Also excited to see how this story wraps up! Truly one of my favorites. I wait for these updates as much as the main story.

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Chapter 40: A Token

Frank Poe

Month 12, Day 25, 8:00AM

Frank and Marie had bundled themselves up to sit on the roof while big snowflakes fell all around them. A finger’s depth of snow had already fallen in the night. As the sun rose, the snow covered the city and roofs in white. Grey-White clouds drifted overhead, continuing to drop the snow, making the city feel dreamlike, with the buildings fading to the shapes of memory. People shut themselves indoors and quiet descended with the snow.

He and Marie had come up in the grey dawn light to settle something that he’d put off for a few days. Should he investigate Lord Dryden.

Frank dug the old iron bowl out of the snow, and set it up on a crate that they’d pulled from the attics. Poe had them sit on a couple of rough wooden stools. Well, he sat. Marie had chosen to kneel on her stool, covering her legs completely with her skirts and the cloak she wore. Snow lightly fell on her shoulders and hair. If it hadn’t been for her pale face watching the sky, she would have looked like a miniature snowcapped mountain made out of black granite.

Frank smiled inwardly a bit at his thought; she certainly had granite’s toughness.

Frigg took longer to appear than usual, and they’d already waited nearly an hour in the cold but he didn’t want to rush her, even though the agency should have opened its doors.

Frank spread his will out into the world around him. He hoped to feel Frigg approaching, but, for now, he could only sense some crows gathering on a nearby rooftop. The local owl seemed to have snuck away; Frank observed that crows and owls never got along. The small rodents he could feel had tucked themselves into their dens.

He felt he’d had a bargain with the mice. So long as they stayed away from his books, he left them alone. They seemed to agree.

“Master Poe,” Marie began at a whisper.“Who is the Mariner?”

Frank had learned that Marie started all the least enjoyable questions with ‘Master Poe,’ so the tenor of her question didn’t surprise him. Frank sighed.

“Me. I’m the Mariner. It’s a name I use to protect my identity from being leaked at the masked meetings. Please keep it secret.”

“You said that the Mariner agreed to help the Morrows with glamours; why didn’t you just say that you would?”

“The August Agency should be open to anyone who wants a fair deal. We are seekers of truth, not favor. Admittedly, I prefer our customers rich enough for them to pay well too.” Frank smirked. “But, if it gets out that Frank Poe has been bought by the Morrows, then the already shallow puddle of customers might dry up entirely.”

“How are you going to teach someone, if no one can remember anything you tell them?”

“I’ll swim that canal when the Morrows identify a candidate to train. But, I do have a plan. I’ll consult with Frigg when I have more details, but for now … let’s consult her about Lord Dryden. She’s coming.”

Frank saw a black speck flying through the lazy snowfall. The raven queen had arrived.

She flew down and landed on the crate next to the iron bowl.

Frank drew a loop of horsehair from his pocket, and dropped it in the bowl. It seemed to suit Lord Dryden’s obsession with horses, and fit with his family.

“Frigg, mistress of Fate, should I confront Lord Dryden about the Siobhan Naught?”

Poe had the sense the Frigg eyed his gift carefully. She did not, as usually the case, play with object. She carefully moved her beak under the bowl and levered it off the crate and into the snow.

“So, no then.” Frank bowed his head. “Thank you for your consideration.”

Frigg did not leave immediately, like Frank had come to expect. Instead, the raven sat and fixed her stare on Marie.

Frank inhaled lightly. The cold that tickled his throat.

“Do you have a question for Frigg?” Frank asked Marie.

Marie looked back at Frank blankly at first, then she smiled. “I do.” She seemed surprised by this. Marie reached in a pocket, and drew out a green glass marble.

“Remember to ask a yes or no question. Frigg can’t explain herself, and I only get impressions.” Poe said. Marie acknowledged Frank’s words, then turned back to the bird.

Marie picked up the icy cold iron bowl and placed it on the crate. Marie soundlessly placed a green glass marble in the bowl.

“Will Cory be a friend?”

Frigg picked up the marble in her beak, shuffled closer to Marie, and put it down on the crate. Then, the raven picked up the marble and shuffled backward, and put it down again. She did this twice; too many times to be coincidence.

Frank got the sense the answer was conditional.

“Whether she becomes a friend depends on you.” Frank explained. Frigg nodded in an almost human-like gesture, then picked up the marble and flew away.

Poe began to pack up the crates and the stools, and dropping them through the roof hatch, but Marie watched Frigg grow farther and farther away, until she was just a speck in the white clouds over the Mires. Then they climbed down into the offices.

“Tea?” Frank asked. Marie nodded, and they returned to his couch filled room, where she made a hot spiced tea mixed with a milk.

They lounged on the couches, relaxing. Frank had some warming runes the kept his rooms at a comfortable temperature, even with the snowfall. The silence felt restful, rather than ominous.

It was past time to open, so a pounding on the front door drew them both down the stairs to see who had ventured into the snow to meet them. Waiting in the snow was a woman that Frank invited into the office. She brushed off the snow in the foyer, and they all gathered at his desk.

“Mr. Poe, I’ve message for you from the Pack.”

Frank raised his eyebrows. He liked the Pack, and its leaders. They’d done him a good turn when he’d first started the Agency. ‘I wonder if they managed to meet the Raven Queen.’ The Pack had resources he did not, and it would be able to command the favor of her presence much more easily than he.

“A good message?”

“Yes, the Raven Queen has granted us a boon for Miles. We appreciate your help in foresight in this matter.”

Frank relaxed in relief. He felt an overwhelming curiosity to ask what happened, but considering how he might use that information … he did not want the cross the Pack.

“Good. How is Miles?”

“He is improving already. He sleeps now without dreams.”

Frank leaned back in his desk chair. That would be an amazing feat of magic. He was right then, the Raven Queen did have domain over the dreams. Or, perhaps, in Mile’s case, over nightmares.

“Good.”

The woman reached in a cloak pocket and withdrew a small box.

“A gift for your help.” She said. “There is a token inside. You may present it to any member of the Pack, and we will know you are a friend, and will help if its in our power.”

Frank felt a nervous shock. The Pack tended to be careful in its choice in friends.

“Also,” she continued, “the Pack has decided that it will more closely align itself with the Verdant Stag. We want to warn you, specifically. Stay away from the Morrows, for your own safety.”

Frank nodded.

“Why?” Marie asked.

“I am not free to say. I was only told to deliver the warning.”

“I understand.” Frank replied.

After the woman left, Frank check the Silvering array. Marie, hung around his desk for a few moments.

“Marie, do you have a question?”

“Master, are you going to remain neural?” She gestured at the box.

“It wouldn’t be much of a commitment if I didn’t.” Frank replied. “The Pack didn’t ask for my help, and I think it best if we stayed out of any conflict that might be coming.”

Marie frowned slightly, but she went back to her table and returned to studying.

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Oops, I left my writing prompt in. Sorry about that. I cut it out now, so its fixed.

#Forshadowing

Also, I dig how easily you added Frank into that interaction. It feels completely in sync without taking away the other characters agency. Of course The Pack would look to uncanny sources to save Miles, and of course they would assume all of this is “fate”. Nice that Frank is also now a friend of the pack, that may come in handy.

Especially with the fall of Morrows near…

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This was supposed to be one chapter, but the chapter got too big, and then it took too long to write …

Chapter 41: The Raven Queen’s Servant

Frank Poe

Month 12, Day 26, 11:00AM

Frank found himself looking at the token from the Pack for a second time that morning. Inside the little box, the pack had given Poe a jade wolf figurine. The figurine was barely taller than his thumb, and it had a level of detail that made it appear almost alive. The wolf now sat with a serene but alert expression on Poe’s desk. It certainly felt magical. But, there was no detectable thaumaturgy; for all that Poe could detect, even with his modified spell arrays in his glasses, the figure had no magical properties at all.

Frank sighed, then returned the little wolf to its box, and returned it to his drawer. A favor from the Pack. He could use it for anything. The Pack did not have access to any magic that Poe might need, but they could bring resources to bear that would allow him complete his memory enchantment.

Frank’s week had been busy. In his spare time between tutoring Marie, calisthenics, introducing her to the correct way to use a fighting stick, visiting an apocathary, and scrying for Silvering’s movements, Poe designed his memory array. The references he had on hand lacked the detail of books at the University, but the generalities sufficed.

That was his current project. He had all his books spread over his desk, referring to them, and scribbling notes into his own grimoire. It was a fresh book, and one that he’d purchased at the same time as the little communication journals he used with Marie.

Frank had his grimoires hidden among the books on his shelves; since no spines showed, none of the books could be easily identified. His last grimoire before he’d left the University was the one Frank dreaded to open. It had plenty of space left among its blank pages, but Frank could not bear to open it an reread what he had written there.

This grimoire included his scrying spell for Silverling and all the details necessary to begin his work on an enchantment. That way he’d design a spell first, then adapt it to an enchantment. The whole plan might not work, but he had to try. New magic was dangerous; it would be best if he used the most well established ideas and had the clearest intent. Especially since he would be testing it on himself.

Frank didn’t know when he realized everyone would eventually forget him, even for the small contribution to magic he had made. At Haven it nearly broke him, especially after the first visit with his family. His family ‘s reaction had been like lead in his heart, and, in particular, his Aunt was unable to bear his presence because her sudden lapses in memory disturbed her too much. Even after he left he found it too painful to try to contact his old friends and acquaintances.

The curse targeted memory, of that Frank was certain, but it also had an element of fate magic, which Frank had less certain ideas.

The Pearl should work. Pearls were the memory of spite, layers and layers of it, built over the lifetime of the mollusk. Pearls show the past but also an expectation of growth; a fate to grow into something bigger with each layer. Frank knew the Pearl should overcome both the twisting fate and memory; dragging along both memory and anchoring Frank in reality. People would recall Frank Poe, so then he could be of consequence to the world.

He worked for several hours on his spell array, considering all the glyphs that would match his intent perfectly, then he took Marie out for a lunch. The cart vendor had sandwiches made of a thick dark bread, breaded and fried fish and a whipped egg and fish sauce topping, wrapped in a thick brown paper. They carried the food back to the office and sat at Frank’s small luncheon table in his rooms.

“What was the token from the Stags?” Marie asked Poe. He hadn’t shown it to her.

“A jade figurine.”

“Is it valuable?”

“It is a refined piece of miniature, but that isn’t what makes it valuable. The Pack owes me an open-ended favor. There are some things no amount of money will buy, and that is one of them.”

Marie nodded.

“So,” Frank continued, “this evening I am going out, please watch the office. I’ll need to take the fighting cane, so stay inside the office.”

“Where are you going?”

“I have a meeting.” Frank been paying careful attention to the next meeting time. With the secret meeting planned for tonight, it was sooner than he expected, and he did not have to attend, because the transfer was scheduled for the meeting after. Still, he wanted to be sure to watch out for that woman who might attempt to steal the prize from out of his grasp, and he should keep an eye on Canelo. He was still her sponsor, and her behavior would reflect on him, at least tangentially.

“When did you work that out? Is it with Lord Stag or something to do with Silverling? I keep you calendar, and we don’t have any clients.”

“I arranged it ahead of time, and its nothing to do with them. It’s perfectly safe.”

“And, you are taking the fighting cane.” Marie’s voice remained neutral., but Frank could detect a hint of sarcasm there.

“Well, it’s a comfort in uncertain times.”

“So, it’s not safe.”

“No more dangerous than usual.”

“Mm.” Marie replied.

“It’s not like I’m going to meet the Raven Queen or anything! It’s just the normal meeting with the … thaumaturges on the edge of things.” Frank felt exasperated, explaining himself to a teenager. He gave a small shake of his head.

“So, people who engage in dangerous, illegal magic? Where you have to hide your face and take on a fake name?” Marie smirked at Frank. “And, how are you going to leave without, Jemnie and Cory following you?”

“I have my ways.” Frank replied. “Let’s just get to you studies.”

Frank quizzed Marie for an hour, then he returned to his desk and continued to refine his spell array, while Marie returned to reading. They really did need more clients.

Frank closed the office, sent Marie to her one room apartment, and returned to his rooms to change, leaving the koi coat behind in his office.

As it grew dark, Poe changed into dark clothing and his mask, then prepared some tricks for leaving the Agency undetected. Unfortunately, the watchers had taken to checking for Frank leaving by the back windows. There was a third way out of the building, however.

After dressing in uncharacteristically dark clothing and coat, and putting on his mask, Frank climbed to the roof and sulked over to the next building on the street. He drew a ring from his pocket and used it to cast his mother’s esoteric chiming detection spell. It did chime faintly, in part because of his nearness to the magic at the agency, but—more importantly—the spell muffled all the sound.

The roofs of the neighboring buildings were only a large stride away. So, he silently stepped over to the roof of a second house, and then a third, eventually making his way over the tall narrow buildings till he reached the end of the block. He peered over the edge and looked for the Morrow and Stag spies. The Stags seemed to still only have the one; the Morrow boy was stationed near her, but the other Morrow spy, ironically the rude fellow who tried to accost him in Madame’s office, was watching the back. They all were looking toward the Agency, and away from Frank.

Frank drank down a potion of feather fall, then stepped off the roof. His dark coat fluttered and he reckoned he looked a little like a big black bird, gliding down into the dark street. He landed next to a pedestrian, local resident that Frank overlooked when he’d scanned the street for the gangs’ spies, who gave a squeak at Franks sudden appearance.

Frank drew himself up, then drew a blank on what to say. He couldn’t think of an excuse for leaping from he top of the building that would keep the started man from calling out and alerting the spies.

“Are you … are you the Raven Queen’s servant?” The startled man stuttered.

“Quiet.” Frank said reflexively—although all sound was muffled because of the esoteric spell—then Frank realized what he looked like: a creepy mask, nearly black clothing, and black cane. He smiled behind the mask … if he just roughed up his voice … and loomed a bit … “Do you dare impede me while I am on the Queen’s business?” Frank rasped.

The man stumbled back, pale. “No. No.” With a panicked expression, the pedestrian fell onto the training any common man would have to deal with any unexpected nobility: he bowed and tried to look unthreatening. “Beg your pardon lord.”

Frank made no further comment and strode past, black coat fluttering behind him.

Down the street, he began chuckling to himself. ‘The Raven Queen’s servant. How absurd.’ Frank thought. ‘Maybe I’ll start hearing rumors of the Raven Queen’s servant flying through the night or appearing from shadows on errands.’

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I’ve had a birthday recently; so, here’s a gift for you!

Chapter 42: A New Member

Frank Poe

Month 12, Day 26, 7:00PM

He walked to the Night Market and arrived at the meeting surprisingly early. Cannelo arrived shortly after him, but he didn’t acknowledge her, then the room slowly began to fill. As he observed the room fill, Frank noticed Liza entered with an unmasked prospective member who wore and a deep and concealing hood, but when the prognos and assistants arrived to question the new woman, Frank put the newcomer to the back of his mind.
“Mariner.” The old cone sat next to him. “What tidings from the sea? Found land yet? The freed Raven bring back a branch?” She cackled.
‘What is she hinting at?’ Frank wondered.
“Just watching the sky.” Frank replied. “Hoping for some good news.”
“The sun was a bright orange and crimson this morning, and you know what sailors say about red mornings.” She said. “Waiting for a Raven is no good; thou’t be better off with doves if you want good news.”
“What do doves know? Foolish birds.”
“Aye. Ravens are cleverer, ‘cause they know, in the end, its all bad news.”
Frank just nodded. What could he say to that? He focused on the assemblage of masked individuals, and the meeting began. Items began to be offered for sale.
Liza sat, redolent, at her table. The prospective member hadn’t yet returned from her interview; Frank noted she took longer than he seen before. ‘Who in the world had Liza brought?’
The first offer was a new type of spirit cage spell, which Frank found vaguely uncomfortable. Midway through his spiel, the hooded—and now white-masked—woman finally made her appearance. The interviewer left her in a chair, hurried over and conferred the arbiter.
“A new member. Welcome. Let us continue, then.”
Now, Frank felt his curiosity bloom. Of course, he couldn’t inquire of this new member or Liza, which would have been a breach of protocol. But he did try to observe what details he could.
The woman wore black clothing and a hood, but for this meeting that was nothing unusual. She had a plain white mask, but that just meant … nothing really. She could have brought it with her, but had she? Frank also wondered why the big production of telling the arbiter and announcing her presence.
He barely noticed the next man offering a mind muddling jinx.
And then there was an offer to sell an enchanted cold box. Frank was impressed with the price. It might be nice to have some way to preserve food at his room at the Agency. He might be able to buy some fresh fish and keep it for breakfasts, and the additional preservation spell could keep potion ingredients too. After the artifact was appraised, Frank put in his own order. He did not work with many potions, but he did hope to start training Marie. He knew that the workshop had some potion-making equipment.
Cannelo and the newcomer didn’t bid, and strangely, Frank felt as if new woman had decided to focus entirely on Cannelo. Did the new woman somehow recognize her?
Finally, they turned to offers. Cannelo’s offer was first, and breath taking in its audacity:
“I’m offering one hundred gold, as well as three green beast cores with a combined energy value of ten million thaums, for useful information about the Raven Queen. I can split up the reward between multiple people, if more than one person has relevant knowledge.”
Frank blinked with surprise. Cannelo was better funded than he thought, and she seemed willing to throw aside any subtlety. He, however, had nothing else he cared to share with her.
The room, however, opened up with rumor and speculation.
She’d stolen something from the University, no mention of what, although Frank knew it was a book. She was a free caster. This then moved to rampant speculation: a shape changer, able to travel through and command the shadows.
Frank had heard all those sorts of rumors already. The coppers had filled their reports with them, but Frank didn’t think it was possible to travel through shadows. Although, “controlling” shadows would be trivial with a spell array. It could theoretically be free cast as well; it shouldn’t be much different than Frank’s tricks with pipe smoke. It was so unlikely, however, that she could change her shape, Frank nearly scoffed. ‘Change her shape into what?’ Frank wondered. ‘A Raven?’
Someone else said, “I have an investigator-adjutant contact. I can ask them for more information, for the right price. They’re not directly on that case, though, so while I might get more details, they probably won’t have access to any truly classified material.”
Frank smiled to himself. Was that him? Canelo already had nearly everything the investigation had.
Canelo switch tactics. “Does anyone have information about her connection to the Verdant Stag?”
“I heard she might come if you make a pleasing enough offering. Maybe Lord knows what she likes, or has some sort of agreement with her.”
Canelo would also know that much, Frank reckoned. Recalling the Morrows’ heavy-handed tactics, Frank snorted, and said, “or maybe the Morrows just pissed her off somehow.”
Then, someone offered a fate ritual to connect them. This, Frank knew, could be disastrous, but before he could respond to the suggestion, and warn Cannelo away from it, the old crone shook her head and explained: “I warn against that. Very iffy results. Even if that kind of compulsion would work on her, what kind of meeting? I certainly wouldn’t want to run into the Raven Queen in a dark alley.”
One of the Pack thaumaturges agreed, and offered a different solution. “I have access to someone with relevant information about how to set up a meeting with her. Lord Lynwood did it. You’ll need to prepare an offering for her in addition to my payment, though. I can give you an answer at our next meeting.”
Frank felt uneasy at that suggestion. He could use his favor with the Pack to get that information, but he had no desire to waste it on meeting the Raven Queen on her own terms. That wasn’t solving her mysteries, that was just cheating.
Cannelo hesitated, but steeled herself and nodded to the horned pack member. “Okay. I’ll pay seventy gold and twenty beast cores to anyone who can confirm a meeting with her, along with details about this offering she requires.”
The horned contact explained the situation and seeming implied that he’d check with his contact, which Poe reckoned was no more than obtaining Lord Lynwood’s permission. Now that the Raven Queen had provided a viable treatment for Miles, Frank expected the Pack would do almost anything for the Raven Queen. If she didn’t want to meet Canelo, it wouldn’t even matter how much money was offered, the Pack would refuse.
The meeting moved on to other requests, including a request for dissolving tincture. Strong acids weren’t restricted, so it wasn’t the sort of item that you needed to buy at the meeting, unless the purpose made its purchase risky. Frank reckoned someone was trying to break into a safe or a lock. He hoped it wasn’t anyone he knew. No one seemed willing to take the requester up on it.
Then, he finally heard the newcomer’s voice.
“I am looking for sempervivum apricus and mandrake root. Both still living.” She said. Her accent was not local, and had the round tones of someone educated. She did not sound rural; rather only slightly exotic. She could be the scion of a wealthy country lord, or a trader. Nothing really that Frank could match to anyone.
Frank found her choice of ingredients interesting. Plants like sempervivum apricus from the plane of radiance could be used to brew healing and regeneration potions. Mandrake, well, that could be used for all sorts of things. It seemed the newcomer had in interesting in providing illegal healing potions, or planned to do direct healing on her own.
Not much of a stretch to make an educated guess regarding who would be interested in those sorts of philitres; either the Stags or the Morrows needed those. And, since Cannelo needed Frank’s support to join the meeting, and she had contacts with the Morrows, Frank guessed it would be the Stags.
Liza was easily, if not cheaply, bribed, and a well known independent. Thus, it seemed that the Stags brought in an another healer from outside the city, or at least someone who had some idea about how to go about it, and hired Liza to get the woman into the meeting.
The girthy alchemical supplier raised his hand. “I have both. I’ll sell them to you for forty-five gold, or an appropriate item in trade.”
“Do you have any need for regeneration potions?”
“Not healing?” he asked. “Well, I suppose. I’ll want them appraised, of course, but if they serve, I’ll take six in exchange for the plants.” Good healers were rare; it took a lot of education and skill. But then, every village had a witch or hedge-wizard willing to brew up something or other. The alchemist was right to require verification.
“Agreed.”
Frank had the sense that he was right; a healer from out of town. She probably didn’t have coin to offer for those expensive ingredients. And, regeneration potions might not be quiet as useful as the more expensive healing potions, but if they were good quality they would deal well with stable injuries, if not sicknesses.
The arbiter noted the usual requests for them: communication or protective artifacts, elemental components, and celerium. A few people offered to sell things to the arbiter, and when their haggling was done, the man spoke again, reciting the usual end of meeting spiel. “This may be a reminder for our old members, but be sure to watch for the signs about our next meeting. You can find the locations on the list pinned to the wall, there.”
He pointed to a piece of paper. “Memorize it, as well as the translations of meaning. This meeting is adjourned. Those who wish may exchange information freely amongst yourselves. If you have agreed to an exchange, please wait for one of us to mediate it.”
Frank made a show of looking, but what he really wanted was to see if he could observe any additional information on the new healer. She gave nothing away, which Frank reckoned as disappointingly competent. They were split, as usual, and Frank was in an early group.
Frank felt no real need to follow Cannelo back to the University, which was her inevitable destination. On the other hand, Frank suspected the new healer would return to the Verdant Stag. While he couldn’t follow her directly, he could watch for her to verify his supicion. Frank walked to the cross streets leading to the infamous inn. The streets were quiet, and the cold kept any but the most determined away. Some beggars had set up a fire, but while they tried to watch him, without watching him, Frank ignored them and waited for the the familiar shape of the new member.
He waited several hours. Either she was used a more complex route avoiding the streets, or she wasn’t staying there, because she never showed up. Perhaps he was mistaken.
If she wasn’t with the Stags, who was she?

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Oh, I didnt see this update! Lovely way to wake up on Christmas.

I like how easily you use minor actions to show that Frank has had an effect on cannon. It feels very naturally uncontradictary, and every tidbit you add makes me appreciate it more.

Franks slightly more advanced knowledge of magic allows him to not go fully into the belief of the Raven Queen, but ironically, his knowledge of fate magic allows him to believe other things.

I do wonder if the Aberant Incident will settle anything…

Happy Holidays!

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My parents drove hundreds of miles from Florida this Christmas to see me, and carried the Covid the whole way to give me a Christmas gift. Now my whole family is sick. I planned a New Years post, but I don’t know if I’m going to manage it.

Alright, Covid hasn’t kept me from one thing I wanted to do on vacation; write another chapter. Additional Note: I uploaded this, and immediately began revising for Royal Road. I forgot some foreshadowing and some other things I wanted to do, so if you want to read a slightly better version of this chapter, it will be published over there tomorrow morning at 12:01AM. August Agency (a PGTS fanfiction) | Royal Road

Chapter 43: Celebration

Marie

Month 12, Day 31, 8:00AM

Marie was halfway through one of Poe’s exercises, using the floor in his room for half pushups, when the seal above her heart activated. If she hadn’t already been on the floor, she might have collapsed on it. So far, none of the exercises had triggered it, but she was in the middle of a strenuous section, and when she went down, she didn’t try to go up.

Marie could recall the last time that she’d had the array hammer her so hard, but the sensation felt just the same as it had her whole life. she could only describe it like wet laundry squeezed in a mangle. Her heart slowed dramatically—introducing dizziness and nausea—then her eyes watered with tears from the sudden pain in her chest, she felt hot, and she let out an involuntary groan. Then all of the unpleasant sensation ceased, and her heart steadied to a slow and regular pumping.

“My god, Marie! What’s happening?” Poe asked in alarm.

“Just my heart. Gimme a second.” Marie gasped. “It will pass.”

“The spell array?” Poe muttered.

Marie could only nod. When this happened, she often blacked out, but in this instance, she supposed her brain had sufficient blood to prevent it. When exercise raised her heart rate too much, the spell array would steady her heartbeat and reduce it into a forced calm, then after a few moments, it would return the control of the heart to her body. She felt that sort of detachment as the spell took control not just of her heart muscle, but also her emotions, so that she would not panic.

When she was a child this completely prevented her from most children’s games. As a pickpocket this meant she’d have never gotten away if caught. Now, it just meant that she’d have to go more slowly through Poe’s exercises.

Marie rolled onto her back and looked up at the ceiling in Poe’s room. She’d never noticed before, but there were spell arrays carved into the rafters, lined with silvered paint and strange glyphs. There was never any dust in Poe’s room, even though the office on the first floor accumulated dust normally. Marie wondered if it was a spell array or enchantment. Her mind meandered for a bit on that topic.

“Do you need anything? Water? Should we lift your head?” Poe asked.

Marie listened in her detached state, but did not respond right away, even as Poe knelt and hovered over her. The spell array kept her from feeling any desire to answer. After a few moments, Marie’s emotions began to gradually come back, and she mustered the energy to reply; like pouring molasses from a tin.

“No. It will take a moment for the it to wear off, but I can rest here.”

Poe grabbed a pillow off the nearest couch, then placed it under her head.

Marie felt grateful for that; the room remained warm, but the floor held a chill. Slowly, Marie blinked and felt her heart return to a steady rhythm. She sighed. She’d have to be more steady in her exercise.

“We should stop for today.” Poe said shakily.

“No.” Marie replied. “It’s just a heart attack. I’ll just go more slowly.”

“Go more slowly?” Poe said faintly. “Your heart stopped my dear. The spell array, all by itself, pumped the blood in your body and restarted it. If I hadn’t known it was there, I’d have assumed you would die in a few moments.”

“It’s no big deal.” Marie tired to brush it off. She’d had lots more of those attacks as a child. Running too fast, trying to work too quickly, even getting a scare could set it off unexpectedly. Well, expectedly, really. She did have a heart condition after all. Poe’s exercises had a gentleness to them that allowed Marie the first real improvements to her strength she’d had in her whole life. If she stopped for a silly thing like almost dying then she’d probably never do them at all.

“If you are certain.” Poe replied doubtfully.

“I’ll just use the less strenuous version we coved last week.” Marie rolled over and began a new round of the less difficult pushups. Poe now seemed to be staring at her with a careful eye.

“How did you manage the cellar at all with that defect?” Poe wondered.

“Controlling my heart rate became second nature.” Marie said, between the low impact pushups “If I keep it low enough, nothing usually happens. Sometimes I can even increase my heart rate to the point just below the trigger.”

“We need a proper fix for your heart.”

“I’d like that, but I am used to it you know.”

Poe sat down on a couch. Marie thought he looked a little pale.

Marie counted out the last few push ups, and then got up and stretched.

When Marie looked toward him, Poe seemed to be blinking a lot.

“So. I have an errand to run.” He finally said. “But first, I think we’ll close the office today, and go take a bath.”

Marie grinned. Poe took them to the baths several times a week; a sponge bath in her room never suited quite so well as a proper scrub. A midday morning bath was unusual, but she certainly wouldn’t object. She bounced up and—mindful that she’d overdone her exercises once today already—she sped off to her room to collect clothes and bathing supplies.

Poe had preferences for bath houses, and one preference consistently prevailed since the Verdant Stag: Marie always had a private bath. That morning, soaking in a round wooden tub of magically heated water, Marie really looked at her tattooed spell array carefully. She’d never even drawn it, even though she now knew how.

She knew the story of how she’d gotten it, but she had no memory of it. When she was a baby, she’d cried a little, then convulsed and then, died for a short while. The midwife had to use a spell to revive her and they’d called a thaumaturge to see what was the matter. The woman had come and declared that Marie had a heart defect; she shouldn’t even be alive, because the valves of her heart didn’t work properly. As a baby, she was too small for the thaumaturgy to do anything, and besides, healing wouldn’t work: her heart was whole and undamaged, must broken in a way the Marie wouldn’t survive. Marie would die soon.

Marie’s Father was called, and his connections made it possible to get a second opinion. Marie never got the description of the person that came and applied the tattoo. The sorcerer put a curse on anyone that was there to see the spell array applied, including Marie. The compulsion had not noticeably faded for her, but there wasn’t much Marie could tell anyway.

Mama had always explained that this was the reason they worked for the Morrows; the Morrow sorcerer cost more than they could pay.

Marie stared at the tattoo, trying to quash her guilty feelings. She had survived, when she shouldn’t, because of magic. Blood magic. Poe knew, of course, and seemed entirely willing to protect her. She hoped that would last.

She had to admit that she liked working for Poe, learning from him, and reading his books. He’d started spending much more freely, but he had received the bonus, so that seemed ok.

But she was increasingly worried about him too. He’d been secretive recently: hiding his notes from her, and people would forget him even more easily. And, there were also incidents, which Marie didn’t even know if he noticed, where people on the street would do more than ignore him. People, with no obvious consideration, would stride across the middle of the street to avoid him. When he walked the pavement, few people went before or after him.

He also wore his koi coat less, even as Marie wasn’t entirely sure what the coat did, but it was more than just protecting others from his strange curse. And, when he did wear the coat, the koi shifted regularly now, as if the water was agitated. Poe was up to something, and the coat didn’t approve. Nor did she know if Frig approved, and with that thought, Marie planned to ask her.

When she went to leave and dress, the attendant delivered a new black dress. With it, Frank included a little note.

‘Your frilly black dress is elegant enough, but you should have something more practical as my apprentice, especially since we will start on alchemy soon. I also worry you are cold. This dress includes a black cloak, like your usual one, but I think you’ll like the lining.’

The new dress fit well, with a sleeved bodice that covered Marie’s arms completely, and the sleeves buttoned so they would fit tightly, as well as high collar, but still had a shorter pleated skirt that she could exercise in and the skirt slightly covered the top of the Boots. This dress had no ribbons or silk, but it was made of almost iridescent black wool, so it was a tough, warm, and practical garment. The new cloak was also black, in the ruana style, but it had a hood. Marie marveled at the lining on the cloak, which had been embroidered with shiny black raven feathers. When she left her private room, she thanked Poe enthusiastically.

Later, at the Agency, Poe immediately showed Marie a spark shooting spell. Powered with a few components and a lamp, after several attempts, she could make a few dim sparks. Poe encouraged her to change the colors and make them brighter, but she tired quickly. Poe spent the rest of his day in his room, where is sounded like he was moving couches for hours.

That night, after Marie had locked up the main door, visitors arrived. Mama and Dinky knocked on the outer door, and Marie answered it. Each was laden with bags of food. Trailing behind them, Jemnie followed them in carrying more bags.

“Mama? What are you doing here?” Marie asked.

“I got a note that said we should get together for a new years’ eve feast, courtesy of your Poe. So, we picked up the food and came over.”

Poe came down the stairs and greeted them.

“Come up! Come up! I’ve got the table set out, and it’s ready for the food.” Poe said.

“Good! I’ve been carrying this food for blocks, and it smells wonderful.”

They began tramping up the stairs. Marie helped with the cloaks and coats they wore, and the managed the door. Before she closed the door, Marie glanced out to the street. Cory stood on the corner in the grey light of the cold evening. Marie wasn’t sure why she did it, but she turned to Poe.

“Can Cory come?”

Poe frowned, but he nodded. “She has to promise to behave herself.”

Marie strode out into the night to Cory. As Marie suspected, the poor girl looked practically blue with cold.

“You can come eat a New Year’s feast with us, if you want.”

“I’m supposed to watch you.” She replied doubtfully.

“You can watch us better inside where its warm.”

Cory’s eyes darted back and forth. “Aren’t you a Morrow? We’re supposed to be enemies.”

“Well, maybe so, but the August Agency is neutral, Master Poe says, and if that’s so, you can come eat with us. Just don’t be a jerk.”

“Alright.”

Marie guided Cory back to the agency, hung her coat on the pegs by the door, and then they climbed the stair to Poe’s room.

Entering it better than normal. The couches had been moved around, and some stacked, so that a big table could be set in the middle of the room. Marie thought it was actually some sort of workbench, but with a cloth set over it, you’d hardly notice. They didn’t exactly have proper chairs; instead they had to sit on couches.

The food was laid out on platters and Mama passed plates around. The food included a whole fish and rice, green rice cake with some sort of crushed nut filling, deep fried crunchy rolls with a pork and vegetable filling, translucent noodles with crab, slivers of carrot and radish, fresh wraps in edible paper of shrimp and noodles and fresh herbs, sweet candied ginger and lotus. Poe made hot smoky tea and served a cold soft cider.

They feasted.

Marie and Mama chatted. Cory and Jemnie seemed to get along, chatting about the cold and what sounded to Marie like a commiseration on the trouble of trying to follow Poe anywhere. Dinky watched Poe warily, but Marie thought even Dinky seemed happy, although he did not smile.

Finally, Poe stood and raised his teacup to the group.

“Indulge me if you will. Most of you will have almost no memory of this, but Marie will remember. And, as its a new year, a time to celebrate, I reckon we have not celebrated her apprenticeship properly. You, her friends and parents, should know that she shows great promise, and that I will do my best to make sure no harm comes to her. But more importantly, she should know that I believe that she is talented and intelligent. She’s make a fine sorcerer one day, and this celebration is for a new year, a new beginning.” Poe raised the cup higher. “So. To new beginnings!” Poe toasted. They raised their cups with him.

“New beginnings.” They said in unison.

Marie blushed with embarrassment, and found herself smiling. She wasn’t sure what she should say. Should she say something?

“I started the August Agency because I had nothing to do, nothing to be, and nothing to be remembered for.” Poe continued. “But, a new year is coming. Once we’re done eating here, I invite you to the roof to bring in the new year. I have prepared some magic I think you all will enjoy.”

They finished eating and Marie was still chewing a piece of the sweet lotus candy when they climbed up to the roof. Poe had cleared the roof entirely for a huge spell array laid out in glowing paint. Marie recognized some of the glyphs; they were the same ones for the spark shooting array she’d already seen.

“Stand there.” Poe pointed at a spot just outside the array.

In the distance, Marie could hear people singing and laughing, celebrating the coming new year. The parties would last for hours, some going all the way till morning. The night was already lit up with the lights from the city, but Marie could faintly see some of the stars.

“Now pay attention Marie; spark shooting arrays can do more than just a few small lights.” Poe said, and he smiled in the darkness. “Enjoy the show.” He sat down on the other edge of the spell array, drew out a huge beast core and his fist-sized conduit from his koi coat.

Soundlessly, there was a flash, and soaring up into the air a streak of white light, and after several heartbeats of traveling overhead into the sky, it bloomed like a flower of fire, then—as it faded— another huge blue spark joined it from Poe’s array and spread a sheet of blue sparks high in the sky. Marie marveled at the display, which Poe continued to produce even more shapes and colors in sparks and light: a green circle of tiny lights, a red rose that twinkled as it faded, a skykraken in purple, and plain bursts of color and light from deep red to violet and every color in between. Higher up in the city, toward the great surrounding wall, other flashes of magic began, seemingly not to be outdone by Poe’s display.

Marie squeezed her Mama’s hand. Mama looked at her and smiled. “Maybe magic s’ not so bad.” Mama said. Marie grinned at her and nodded under magic sparks.

It went on for some time, but not so long that Marie grew at all tired of seeing it. When Poe finished, he laughed.

“Happy New Year Marie.”

“Happy New Year, Master Poe.”

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I’m not ready to release another chapter yet, though I’ve finally gotten healthy enough to write. I’ll probably have something ready in a week or two. While relaxing with wifey, I heard this tune that — other than slandering Ravens part way through — feels like it belongs at the edges of Azlea’s story somewhere:

Chapter 44: Conduits and Useful People

Frank Poe

Month 1, Day 7, Thursday 3:30 p.m.

Frank looked over the past week’s worth of work with pride, aching knees, and cramped fingers. After moving his desk next to Marie’s table in front of the partition and clearing his office floor, Poe had covered the floor of his office with the spell array that he would use to test the Pearl.

If it worked, he would build an enchantment, likely an amulet, that would let him trigger a counter to his curse. Instead of the koi coat’s half measures, people would remember conversations with him! No more notes! He could meet with friends for dinner and they’d recall him. His family might take him back, and he could finish his Master’s certificate.

The possibilities were endless.

Marie seemed happy with the New Year’s day treat, but as he’d worked on the array, she seemed to withdraw bit. Frank guessed it was his request that they skip lessons for the week while he worked on it. He’d promised to show her the basics of alchemy, but hadn’t had the opportunity as he worked on the spell array. He closed the office, so he thought she would appreciate the time off.

“This is it.” Poe waved an arm toward the array. “A reasonable and permanent way to deal with my curse.”

“Congratulations, Master.” Marie sounded unenthused. Frank decided it was just a failure to appreciate the accomplishment. “I wonder if I might ask a question?”

“Anything you like! Although I can’t promise that you’ll understand my answer.” Frank replied. “This is a complex spell array, after all.”

“Sure. Um. Have you consulted the Oracle? Frigg?”

“What? No. This will end the curse, don’t you see? I won’t need to worry about interfering with fate, because people will remember me again.”

Marie didn’t glower, exactly, but her eyes seemed a little darker, and her jaw a little tighter.

“I have built this spell on well-recognized principles of memory and divination.” Frank said. “My future will have echoes again. You don’t notice, but most people find it unsettling to be around me. This is a fix. Or, at least the beginning of a fix. You’ll see.”

Frank paid no more attention to his apprentice’s frown.

‘It will be fine.’ He thought.

He’d drawn on all his resources to make the spell array. Thinking of resources, this included the Handbook of Components, Physical Laws, Spell Arrays, and Glyphs of the Modern Sorcerer. The fate portions of the array had come from Frank’s own neglected grimoires left from his time at the University, but the rest had been built upon glyphs and arrays found in the Handbook. Frank carefully packed up the stamped censor’s copy of the Handbook, and put the five volumes in a shoulder spacial bag he’d specifically purchased for the purpose.

Frank still had to avoid the prying eyes of the spies outside the Agency. And, sadly, they now knew about the roof hatch. So, while he could try that exit again, he reckoned it would be watched more carefully. He could still creep across the roofs, but he wasn’t sure that was wise.

Frank rubbed his hand over his face, feeling a little stubble. He’s skipped shaving for a few days. He’d prioritized the array, but he’d also put off planning how he would lose the spies from the Morrows and the Stags.

The fighting stick would be fine for personal protection, but to cast his most portable spells and illusions he would need his pipe, like he’d done on the street some weeks before. Unfortunately, sorcerers and coppers who knew him would recognize it. So. He would have to lose the followers at the Night Market, and that would be easier said than done.

He decided to compromise.

….

After sunset, as the inky darkness of night descended, the shrouded figure of Frank Poe, wearing a blue coat that a flashed with orange and silver, walked out of the closed door of the August Agency, face buried under a grey scarf and wide brimmed hat. When the ephemeral figure reached the corner, Frank Poe impossibly split in two, each man headed in different directions. This impossibility confused the spies, who also split up to follow him, then two blocks later, they all lost sight of Frank Poe entirely in the mist and gloom.

Cory observed that the enforcer from the Morrows, who hadn’t experienced Frank’s tricks, walked on, looking for any sign of the investigator. He surely hadn’t gone far. Jemnie had the night off; if they’d had the clever pickpocket with them, the Morrows might have had a chance to understand what had happened. She wouldn’t find out till later that they received a beating for their failure.

Cory, who worked alone, had to pick one of the two false images to shadow, and when that one disappeared, she didn’t bother trying to backtrack to try to find the other phantom. For one thing, she could recall both of them walking, even when the one she’d followed disappeared. Thus, she realized that neither of the smoke shadows were Frank Poe, and he had obviously slipped away. She made a note in her book, then trudged back to the August Agency.

On her way back, Cory saw another man, dressed in dark clothing, turn the corner a street ahead of her, and he walked deeper into the Mires. He had a satchel over one shoulder, and walked briskly with what someone else might have confused with a walking stick.

Cory had a careful and systematic mind, which had made her ideal for this assignment from Katerine. Frank Poe’s curse disturbed her, especially with how quickly she would forget that she was even following him, but she was beginning to understand the shape of it.

She might not recall anything that Frank Poe had said on new year’s eve, and she only had a vague recollection of some sort of light magic he’d done on the roof, but his odd room filled with couches made an impression. Especially the metal-capped black fighting stick that had leaned unobtrusively in the corner during the dinner at the August Agency. Just like the stick this stranger carried.

She might not be following Frank Poe, but she could follow his fighting stick. She made a note in her book.

Frank had several spots on his walk toward the meeting location where he would check for followers. The city’s winding streets and blind alleys—more often than not—helped with mundane methods for catching a tail.

Frank had found a sharp corner that had an almost entirely hidden doorway just as he would turn down the side street. He could break the line of sight with any follower, and it was natural for anyone following to speed up and round the corner to try to catch sight of him. If he stopped at just the right spot in the doorway, he had an opportunity to catch the spy or avoid them entirely. Just a few moments out of a follower’s view worked.

Frank thought his distanced output illusion array, which made two smoke versions of himself, cleverly distracted the spies. He’d even decided to draw out an entire array on Marie’s table so that he could improve his control. When the spell finished, and he’d left the office, the street outside the August Agency was empty. Frank reckoned the decoys worked as planned.

So, when he turned the corner and slipped into the shadows of the door, he was certain that this precaution came from his more paranoia than practical concern. Not only was he dressed plainly, but his distraction should have gotten the spies far enough away from the Agency that there would be no way to link him to it even if they had seen him on the street. Frank even murmured the magic detecting spell to cover his footsteps.

So, as he waited, he was surprised when Cory turned the corner, walking briskly to follow him, then walked past the shadowed doorway where Frank sulked. Frank almost raised his stick to strike, when he stopped himself. Marie wouldn’t like it if Frank hit her friend. Cursing internally, Frank stepped out of the shadow directly behind Cory, turned sharply, then retraced his steps, walking briskly around the corner. He effectively disappeared from her view, even if she had turned around.

Marie wasn’t the only one with quiet vinyl-soled boots. Cory did not notice in time to see Frank disappear into the night.

Shaken that Cory managed to follow him, Frank had to take a long detour to avoid that street and potentially crossing paths with her again. He also had to check for followers several more times before he felt confident enough that he had, at last, beaten his tail.

As he put on his mask, he found himself gritting his teeth again. He bustled to the meeting, and was nearly late to catch the start.

‘These spies wouldn’t be a problem if I had the respect I deserve.’ Frank thought, ‘If I’d finished my mastery as planned. If my family still treated me like their golden child. Not the cold looks, and unbearable silence. Cursed Depths, I wouldn’t even need to be a driftwood-forsaken investigator. I could be a real sorcerer, with a real job at the High Crown’s Palace.’

Frank gave the password and quickly found a seat. Because Frank arrived late, he and the pearl seller acknowledged each other, but they would have to wait till the end of the meeting for the arbitrators to oversee the sale.

As the meeting began in earnest, Frank buzzed with excitement, but he did try to pay attention.

The new healer returned with a new mask. Frank identified her because when the alchemist asked about the sempervivum apricus and mandrake, she identified herself. The new mask seemed high quality, including some sort of minor attention diverting ward that Frank felt pressing against his mind. Frank also noted the healer seemed to return with a shopping list; she purchased a portable water carrier, liquid stone, minor healing potions, and lung sealing potions. She traded these potions for no small about of gold.

The fact that the young healer seemed to be buying up the kinds of potions one might see on a battlefield suggested that the Stags, or whoever the woman represented, expected a fight soon. Frank didn’t have much trouble identifying Canelo either and she seemed particularly attentive to the healer’s purchases. Frank silently vowed to himself that the August Agency wouldn’t be caught in that fight.

When it came time to sell, the young healer surprisingly seemed to be selling three conduits: one modest gem, one small one that might be used by a child or weak sorcerer, and a shattered one. None of them were terribly strong.

Masks were a good way to prevent someone from showing surprise, and Frank reckoned he was not the only one who benefited from having a mask. Usually a person-to-person sale would receive a better price, there were only so many reasons to sell a conduit this way. The magical gems could be stolen, but — given the intensely personal nature of conduits — they were difficult to steal, unless you killed the sorcerer. She might have acquired them as payment, but then to sell them at a meeting suggested she did not know anyone to sell them to. Frank didn’t want to fall into a confirmation bias, but it seemed likely this healer lived an isolated existence as he’d already guessed.

Frank could gift the small one, and use the shards in a spell array, but he didn’t have a use for the medium rated conduit. Frank considered making an offer on the small conduit. It might be a good gift for Marie, but the bidding started off at 75 gold for the two working conduits. It was more than he had planned to offer, but, because Frank had been trailing behind Silverling when he’d been trying to sell a conduit, Frank wasn’t surprised. The shop selling price of conduits had risen dramatically. Those shop’s offers on Silvering’s conduit had been relatively low, which Frank reckoned came from a tightening the grip on monopoly pricing. In this respect, that was the point of these meetings.

This mystery healer would almost certainly walk away with a better price than a shop offered. The fat alchemist offered 80 gold and etherwood leaves for the lot. Frank thought that it was a balanced offer; money for the working conduits and an exchange of ingredients. Not everyone agreed.

“These prices are ridiculous; wait a few months till the shortage is over and you’ll be able to get that celerium for half the price.” A woman said. Frank doubted that.

“My offer stands. I like to build up relationships with useful people” The fat alchemist replied. Frank nodded to himself. He didn’t have a reason to cultivate the healer as a contact, but illegal healing always had a demand for good ingredients. A little good will now might pay off handsomely for someone like him.

“One hundred fifteen gold for all the celerium.” The Arbiter offered. Now that was unusual, because the offer had the hallmark of a bribe. Frank shifted his head to try to get a better look at the healer.

‘Are the Arbiters picking sides?’ Frank wondered. No one else bid.

Then it was Tanya’s turn, and she asked whether anyone had been able set up a meeting with the Raven Queen. Frank found the answer unsurpising.

“I tried, but my contact refused to help. They were afraid to talk about the Raven Queen at all. Wouldn’t even say her name. Apparently, Lord Lynwood is cracking down. I suggest you go to the Verdant Stag and ask there. The red-haired proprietress has connections to Lord Stag, and he should be able to get you an audience.”

Canello already knew this, and said so. Frank frowned to himself. Maybe Canello would return to him for information. He may not have been loyal to Lord Lynwood, but Frank was hardly likely to provide more information now. He was curious about the Raven Queen, but he considered the August Agency’s contract with Canello complete. There wouldn’t be any need to mention Silverling’s connection unless Canello paid for it.

Frank even wondered idly whether Canello knew Silverling. ‘Maybe I should be going to her for information.’ Frank chuckled to himself.

“The previous offer still stands.” Canello said. “Anyone who can give me relevant information about the Raven Queen or set up a meeting between us will be rewarded. Gold. Beast cores. I also have access to various unusual or restricted components, if you have a very specific need. But I’m not interested in trading for anything except the Raven Queen.”

Canello was desperate enough she accepted an offer to hear overheard rumors from coppers in bar. Frank sighed to himself. Her arrogance and pride were catching up to her.

The seller of the Shen pearl asked if there were any counter offers, but Lisa declined to sweeten her offer.

As they moved to the general exchange of information, Grandmother spoke.

“There are rumblings of blood and violence in Gilbratha’s future. It is like a violin string pulled too tight, on the verge of snapping and slicing through flesh. Take heed. Be wary.”

“That’s pretty obvious to anyone with eyes and ears,” Frank replied.

After some additional news, parties began to divide up and exchange their information and goods.

Frank went with the Arbiter and the pearl seller to conduct the exchange. He removed the books from the satchel, and placed them on the table. The seller drew out knotted fabric-wrapped parcel from their own storage case, and placed it in front of Frank. The fabric itself was a coarse cotton dyed ochre.

Frank untied the knotted fabric and revealed a ceramic circular jewel box that was a little larger than cupped hands, and decorated with a scene of a bearded sorcerer conversing with a ridiculous image of a busty and unrealistically human-looking mermaid.

Frank lifted the lid off the box, turning it over and seeing that padding extended to the underside of the lid. In the box, nestled in layers of a purplish blue silk, the Shen pearl shone iridescent.

“The padded china box is included. No charge.” The seller murmured.

Frank silently nodded in response, his speech having left him entirely. The nearly spherical pearl glowed as beautiful as a full moon. The pearl appeared larger than he expected, wider in diameter than a finger joint, and not at all like the tiny jewels . On its surface, a beautiful iridescent sheen reflected the dim light in the private room. Even in the dim light, the pearl shown a deep purple ranging to mottled pink and grey nacre. Small blooms of white spots, almost like stars, shimmered on its surface.

Frank had researched the Shen pearls as much as he’d could, and they were described as beautiful, but those descriptions failed to reveal how shockingly magical the pearl appeared. Frank reached forward, but he hesitated to touch it. He suddenly felt that the pearl shouldn’t be touched by unworthy fingers.

The appraiser looked between the two.

“May I pick it up and check it for appraisal?” He asked.

Frank and the seller nodded. The Appraiser put on a white glove and carefully lifted the pearl from its divot in the fabric. He brought a thaumaturge’s loupe to his eye and looked at the pearl through it. Then he hesitantly brought the pearl to his lips and rubbed it gently on his teeth.

“It’s so beautiful, I almost don’t want to test its capacity.” The appraiser observed. “These tests can damage natural stones, and I’ve never tested a pearl before.”

Frank finally found his voice. “Go ahead.” He croaked, and coughed.

The appraiser had a device ready for the the test with spring resistor and a needle gauge.

“This is one of my own devices. It works very well in these sorts of tests of unknown gems.” He murmured. After carefully fitting the pearl in the device, the appraiser began channelling magic into a crystal light and reading the little gauge. After a few minutes, he announced the Pearl’s capacity. “The pearl can channel over 1300 thaums for a short period, and probably would channel 1000 thaums for many hours without damage. I warn you, it may heat up quickly if you used it to resist another’s will, but honestly, its the highest capacity natural pearl I’ve ever heard of, and it’s still just as smooth at channeling will as unblemished cerelium of a similar size. Remarkable. I would say that this is exactly as offered, perhaps even better quality than described.”

The appraiser carefully removed the pearl from the device and returned it to the box. Frank carefully replaced the lid and retied the square of fabric.

“Now the books.” The seller said.

The appraiser treated the books with nearly as much reverence as the pearl, carefully lifting each book from the table, flipping through the pages with gloved hands, reviewing the table of contents and skimming several chapters.

“See here?” The appraiser pointed at the endpapers in on the volumes that he had opened on the table. “These are hand floated dye; no two books are alike. This isn’t the parchment editions, but is still printed on mixed silk and cotton paper.”

He closed one volume and flipped it to show the spine to the buyer. “Leather, of course, but also embossed with the printer’s seal and publisher’s proof marks and inlaid with gold leaf. See that the printer’s mark is an oak leaf? The printer in Gilbratha’s mark is a fish. Forgers rarely get that right. ”

Then the appraiser opened the books to the title page. It was stamped with a red - almost black - censorship mark. “And here is the censor’s mark, marking these books for destruction. There’s a mark in every volume here, which is consistent with the import embargo on these books. The city publisher also has a censor’s mark, but it will show that it has been reviewed and will be marked with green, rather than red. Green-lit some call it.” The appraiser nodded to himself. “Do you need additional proof of authenticity? I can’t personally attest to the contents.”

“Let me browse a few sections. I’ve had the censored sections described to me in sufficient detail that I can verify the passages are identical.” The pearl seller drew a few pages of notes from a pocket.

“You’re sure the description is accurate?” Frank asked. “I’d hate that this sale doesn’t go through because your expert has read a forgery.”

“My expert has personally reviewed original volumes in the restricted Archives of the University. They are trustworthy.”

Frank shrugged. He knew the books were authentic. He, however, wouldn’t have any way of convincing this stranger otherwise.

The seller flipped through several chapters and silently read several pages in sections Frank knew were removed from the expurgated volumes. He appeared to compare them to his notes. Eventually, he put the volume back down on the table.

“This is authentic. Could I pay you to tell me how you managed to get these books?”

“No.” Frank replied.

“As expected.”

The arbitrator nodded. “The exchange is accepted. Please take your goods.”

Frank lifted the box from the table and gently put it in his satchel. Lightly tapping his his fighting stick on the floor to reduce his jittering nerves, he returned to the main room.

The exchange took over an hour. Canello, the young healer, and everyone else appeared to have left, or were finishing up in other private rooms.

Frank used great care heading home, but when he finally arrived, walking past the spies into the August Agency’s front door, Frank’s face hurt from smiling.

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Gosh, the happiness at the ability to just be remembered. Frank please do not become another chapter in the book of “100 ways to die horribly”

I will neither admit nor deny that possibility.

Just remember: I like Azalea’s writing. You know how things go when S. is having a successful streak, right?

Chapter 45: Memories of Fish

Marie

Month 1, Day 8, 5:00 a.m.

Marie woke with a start to a near dark room. Poe had stayed out till very late, and she’d given up on waiting for him to return when she’d finally decided to return to her room for bed. Sleeping had not reduced her anxiety. Her dreams were filled with raven wings and questions. Questions that compelled answers.

Marie had to confront her own feelings that the spell array covering Poe’s office disturbed her. He’d repeatedly told her that Frigg needed to be consulted when making decisions, but oddly, this decision seemed exempt.

She could leave it, but she could do something. She could consult the raven oracle.

Marie lit her table lamp, and in its bluish flow, she dressed in one of her practical dresses, then gathered the components for the the raven calling spell array. She didn’t know if Poe had woken, or not, but she tried to keep sound down to a minimum.

She carefully snuck up to the roof, trying to keep her steps soft on the metal surface, and found the iron bowl. She drew out the array, and carefully placed the components.

The still air carried the sounds of the city preparing for the day, the calls of street vendors trying for the early customers, and the smells of breakfasts cooking in the residences nearby. The sky showed the grey-blue color of dawn as the few brightest stars faded. If she’d bothered to look, she would have seen the spies take up their posts, Jemnie and Cory on opposite street corners.

Marie focused on the sound she wanted to make. She’d learned that this spell array could only really make a single sound. The glyphs included the one for Ravens. She wondered if she changed it whether she’d be able to get other sounds out. Best not experiment, however, because as it was Poe would be angry if he found out she cast magic without him. He’d e furious if she experimented without his permission.

Despite the risk that he’d find out, Marie continued. She had to know if Poe was making a mistake, even if he wouldn’t check himself.

The hardest part had been looking for something symbolic in her rooms that could represent Poe. Or maybe to represent what Poe hoped to do. Among all the alchemical supplies there was a little bottle, no bigger than her pinky. The day before she’d stopped by the canal when she picked up lunch, filled the vial with water, and capped it with a tiny cork.

Marie remembered a poem from when she was a child, which felt like a long time ago, but had probably only been a few years:

Plant in the bright spring;
sow the fecund ground with seed.
The land, while sleeping,
dreams of golden reed.
The cloudy silversmith
brings water that carried
the memories of fish,
iridescent arch in the radiant-hammered sky.

Water was the only thing she could think of that had memories in it. And, the canal had fish in it. Probably. So, Marie concluded that the little bottle of canal water would serve, and she placed it in the iron bowl. If Poe wanted to restore his memory, Marie would bring the memory of fish to ask Frigg if he should. She hoped the raven understood.

Marie activated the array, and was rewarded with a firm “Kraa” that resonated over the rooftop. An owl fluttered from a nearby eave overlooking the street. Marie sat patently, almost willing Frigg to arrive, but not casting any magic. It was possible that Frig. wouldn’t come.

While she waited, Marie considered Poe’s behavior for the prior week.

He’d been distracted, certainly. He barely spent any time looking for or watching Silverling. He also moved his desk into her space on the side of the partition near the door, then spent the whole week drawing on the floor of his office, reference books at hand and a big square of white paper covered in intricate diagrams.

Yesterday, when he finished the huge spell array, Marie thought his mania would be subdued, but he then made a complex spell array to cast a complex illusion with smoke. He’d done this by burning smoking herbs in a brasier and cast and complex multipurpose array, which turned the smoke into a Poe-like visage. Then he left, promising that he would return before midnight.

He took the fighting stick.

Marie couldn’t fully express her concern to him, because he would just dismiss them. Marie knew that Poe treated her more like an adult than any of the people she knew, but since the apprenticeship started, Marie realized that Poe often treated her like she knew very little at all. This past week had been particularly stressful, because he cancelled lessons and the exercise. Marie couldn’t get him up to eat properly or go out, and he worked through the day and most of the night, barely eating or sleeping. His eyes had become sunken and dark from fatigue, and he’d become more irritable while seemingly putting on a mask of positivity.

She feared that array. She didn’t know why. Now, she hoped could help.

Marie did not need to wait very long before she saw the familiar raven flying over the rooftops. Frigg carried a black something hooked in her talons. When Frigg landed in front of Marie, she recognized the stiff oval as a mask.

Frigg released it, and hopped back, then gave a little bow. Marie bowed back. Marie prepared her question, just as she’d dreamed it.

“Frigg, Oracle of Ravens, Master Poe made a spell so that people will remember him.”

‘I hope I’ve brought the right tribute for you.’ Marie thought in a long pause.

“What will happen if he casts his spell?”

At first, Marie wasn’t sure that the Raven understood. She seemed to hop around Marie, and flapped her wings irritably, coming surprisingly close. Marie tried to stay completely still.

Eventually, Frigg hopped to the bowl and the little glass vial, then lifted it from the bowl with her beak and dropped it in some of the unmelted snow. Marie thought Frigg looked at her accusingly, then Frigg pecked at the tiny cork, until the vial came open. The spoonful of canal water dribbled out and dripped away on the slanted surface.

“Kraa.” Frigg said. She snatched the empty vial in her beak and flew away with it.

‘What did that mean?’ Marie wondered. ‘How do you ever tell what it means? Now what do I do?’

As she watched, the dark shape of Frigg grew smaller until Marie lost sight of her winging her way over the Mires. The sun was rising and filling the sky with a reddish light. She felt lightheaded, and her heart was thudding a little too hard.

Marie scurried back through the roof hatch and down to Poe’s room. She knocked, but he didn’t answer. It was still very early, so he could be sleeping soundly, but that felt wrong. Marie then hurried to the office, and the door was open.

“Poe?” Marie called.

“In here.” Poe responded from beyond the partition.

Marie stepped around the partition and found Poe standing in the spell array. There were strange components in carefully marked circles all around the room. A tattered ribbon, an animal skull, divination stones, an iridescent pearl, and beast cores.

“Just give me a movement, the spell is just settling.” Poe turned, snd Marie thought that Poe had a glyph painted on his forehead. Frank smiled. “We need to test it!”

“Poe, have you cast the spell? Because … there’s something …”

“Of course. Later though? I just cast the spell. It seems to be working perfectly.”

Marie looked at Poe, and she certainly didn’t think he looked any different. Other than the glyph. And something else, but she couldn’t say what it was.

“Um, what is on your face?”

“This is part of making it work. Come along, I’ve worked out the perfect test.” Poe stepped out of the array, and picked up his dark coat on the way out. As he shrugged it on, Marie realized the difference.

“Poe, your suit?”

“Yes, isn’t it glorious? A clean grey suit of clothes. It’s not this season’s style, but then the suits I normally wear are obscene. The bright colors helps people recall me. But, for this test I am hoping to prove that even in less garish clothes, people will remember me.”

“You’ll wear the koi coat though, right?”

“No. I don’t think I will. This should have fixed my curse. At least, for a short while. The spell array can’t last more than several hours. Let’s order a lunch.”

“A lunch? But, it’s breakfast.”

“Come along.” Poe strode out, without even putting on a hood or cloak. Marie threw her new cloak, pinned it with the garnet cloak pin, on and hurried after him.

Poe, seemingly oblivious to Jemnie and a very tired-looking Cory, headed down the street to one of the street carts that sold greasy food throughout the day. Poe patiently waited his turn as customers wearily ordered chunks of a goat meat wrapped in flatbread for their breakfasts. Subdued by the early hour, the customers murmured their orders and the vendor passed the food to them with the reverence of the sort of early riser who understood the pain of starting your day before the sun had risen.

“Hello there!” Poe said brightly and with a touch of enthusiasm people usually reserved for festival days.

The food-vendor looked at Poe with slight surprise. Poe smiled a remarkably manic smile on his face for seven in the morning.

“Uh, good morning?” The vendor asked.

“Yes, very, very good, I think. So. Can I order something now for later?”

“Well … I normally just give people their food out right away …”

“But, you could just, say hold it for later?”

“I mean, are you going to pay me?” The vendor furrowed his brow.

“Of course.”

“I mean, like now? Are you going to pay me now to hold a breakfast kebab for you to pick up later?”

“Yes, yes. That’s exactly what I’d like you to do, and when I come back, you can say ‘this is the food I kept hot for you Mr. Poe.’ So, then, you could hand me the hot kebab or whatever like completely normal people do.”

“Uh, completely normal people just take the food when they buy it.” The vendor muttered. “I suppose I could do that for you Mr. Poe. But, why?”

“No reason. I’m paying extra here,” Poe drew an entire gold from his pocket, “so I expect the food hot when I come for it later, say around noon, and don’t forget to use my name when you hand it to me, ok?”

Marie choked a little. ‘An entire GOLD? He’s gone crazy.’ She thought.

The vendor looked at the gold suspiciously. “This isn’t a scam is it?”

“No, no, of course not! Just take my money.”

“Uh, okay.” The vendor reluctantly took the gold coin.

“Now remember, later today, at lunchtime, hand me two kebabs, and say my name somehow. Don’t forget, my name is Mr. Poe.”

Poe turned and strode away. Marie just gaped for a moment, before she followed him back to the office, with the spies trailing along behind. They came back to the office and Poe sat down at his desk, still grinning.

“Master, what was that?”

“Do you know, I’ve been buying kebabs off that vendor for over two years and not once has he recognized me or said my name? Not once. He forgets meeting me, you see, so he can’t even recall my name. I’ve asked. But today will be different!”

“Listen, Master Poe, I … consulted with Frigg and …”

“What? Did you cast magic without me there?”

“Just the raven calling spell, Master, and not very loudly.”

“Now Marie, I’ve said before, you should only cast spells under my supervision. You’ve shown good progress, but you still aren’t experienced enough to cast on your own.”

Marie nodded. She’d take whatever scolding Poe had in mind, but she needed to tell him what happened.

“Master, I’m sorry. I just want you to be safe. I don’t think Frigg likes this spell. She poured out the water I gave her.”

“I am sorry but you do not have sufficient experience. You have to pick an appropriate symbol and it has to resonate with your question. Frigg is still a bird. Without me there to help you interpret, any conclusion you might reach is bound to be caught up in your own fears or concerns. It’s not your fault, you’re just not old enough or experienced enough to really understand.”

Marie bristled. She knew that she was right. Poe was the one that had made the mistake. But, when she looked at his expression, getting more condescension was the only likely outcome, and she’d just have to hope he didn’t get too badly hurt.

“Fine.” Marie spat. “I have reading to do. Is there anything you need?”

“No, that’s a fine idea. I think I’ll start in on the enchantment diagrams. I’ll show you how to use all the equipment I stored up on the third floor after I’ve gotten this ready.”

Marie rolled her eyes. Poe was supposed to teach her alchemy too, but he’d barely started. She sat at her table and began reading, while Poe sat at his desk next to her muttering and fussing over his own diagrams of an amulet set with a large pearl. After several hours, Poe checked a watch in his pocket and announced it was lunchtime.

“But, it’s only 10:30?”

“Close enough! Close enough. Let’s go pick up our kebabs!”

Marie dutifully followed the excited Poe out of the Agency and into the street. Marie noticed that Jemnie and Cory waited at the corner together. They seemed to be quietly discussing something, but when Poe emerged they focused on him and followed Marie and Poe at a modest distance.

Poe practically skipped to the kebab vendor, and Marie had to hurry to keep up. Her heart didn’t much like it, and it still pounded when they arrived. It was too late for breakfast, and honestly, too early for lunch, so Poe strode straight to the vendor.

“Do you have anything for me?” Poe asked.

The vendor cocked his head to the side.

“Mr. Poe, it’s awfully early for noon.”

Poe seemed delighted. “Yes. Yes. It’s too early. But, how much did I pay you?”

“A gold.”

“So?”

“I’ve got some hot kebabs here for you Mr. Poe. If you’ll give me a moment, you can have them right away.”

Poe laughed. The kebab vendor shrank back a little.

“You hear that Marie? He has Mr. Poe’s kebabs. Right here!” Poe laughed in relief and a kind of manic joy.

Marie furrowed her brow. The man remembered Poe. Then she got it: the man hadn’t just remembered Poe, he’d remembered meeting Poe. The curse had no effect.

“Poe?” Marie nudged him. Poe picked Marie up and spun around, then he put her down and whooped.

“It worked! It worked!”

The kebab vendor held out the two kebabs as if Poe was a wild animal that might bite. Marie took them gently.

“Let’s go back to the office and eat these and I’ll let the …” Poe stopped midway through his sentence and saw the two spies waiting down the street. Like match flaring to life, Poe fixed them with a glare and stormed toward them. Marie had to run after him to keep up.

In just a few strides, he loomed over the pair and drew his pipe from a coat pocket and flourished it.

“Now then, you gutter-born trash. You’ll remember this for once, and by the plane of darkness you’ll listen. I have had enough of this spying. You tell your bosses that if this doesn’t end soon, I’ll end it. Thieves and whores the lot of you.”

Cory pushed the smaller boy behind her as Poe brandished the pipe.

“It does not matter to me,” Poe continued, “if your bosses ordered you here, or how young you are, or your justification, the next time I see you following me I’ll be sure it will be the very last time.”

Cory backed away slowly. Marie knew her look, the fear in her eyes. She’d seen it. Jemnie cowered behind her; trying to make himself look smaller. Marie couldn’t see Poe’s face, but she knew what he must have looked like in her bones. She’d seen the look at the Parlor often enough: all anger and threats of violence. The look he’d given the Morrow’s enforcer.

“Go!” Poe barked. Cory and Jemnie turned and ran.

Marie felt hot, and angry, furious, at Poe. Her eyes grew wide and she grabbed his arm and wrenched at him.

“What was that? What right do you have to do that?”

“I am sorcerer! I have every right to be free of …”

“Is that what you think of me, Frank Poe?!” Marie screamed at him. “That I am gutter trash? That I’m a whore or a thief?” Marie felt her face was hot. “That if you don’t get your way you’ll hit me? threaten me?”

“No.” Frank replied angrily. “You’re different. You’re talented … You’re …”

“And how do you know they aren’t?” Marie’s blood pumped in her ears, thudding heavily. “Frank Poe, today you’ve finally shown it; you are the sort of cruel man my mother worried about.” Marie yelled and she didn’t care.

People on the street stopped. The kebab vendor and his customers stared.

“But they …” Frank started, but Marie screamed back.

“They haven’t done a thing to you, have they? They done the same thing you do all day long to other people. Followed you. And not once do they catch you, do they?” Maries breath was coming in great gasps. “You throw stones at glass houses! When will you start in on me?”

“But, you’re my friend.” Frank said. His eyes showed hurt, and a sort of pain that Marie didn’t know she could even inflict.

“Is that so? Then … you … you … had better …” Marie couldn’t breathe. Her fingers felt numb and she dropped the kebabs. ‘Be a better person,’ her thoughts continued without speaking. Her irregular heartbeat spiked and she felt sudden overwhelming chest pain between her breasts. Despite trying to resist it, she collapsed forward into Frank’s arms. He dropped the pipe with a clatter and caught her. Marie thought he smelled of old books and the sea.

“Marie? Marie!” Poe exclaimed. Her lowered her to the pavement. “Help!” He called. “Help!”

The enchantment on Marie’s chest kicked in, and the nausea hit first, so she dry heaved. They hadn’t eaten breakfast after all. Her vision was black around the edges, but she could have sworn Poe appeared to be crying? The kebab vendor and his customer, a lady, ran toward him.

“I’m sorry, she has a heart condition.” Poe was saying, but Marie barely heard him. She closed her eyes against the pain, and squeezed Poe’s hand. This was a bad one. The kebab vendor said something and Poe answered. Then the woman said something angry. It wasn’t an argument exactly, but Marie thought it sounded like there might have been accusation.

She felt the forced the sense of calm come over her, then her body decided that she’d be better off unconscious.