Posca gets his money. And inviting Gredder along turns out to have been the correct move, he and Arcadia make friends in no time at all. But we have enemies to attend to as well, those two who tried to kill us with their flying contraption back in Demeus, and now that Arcadia is on the mend, we’re down in the cargo hold to have a little chat with them.

We’re gathered around the flickering orange light of an oil lantern. Arcadia's wearing a simple off-white tunic and some trousers, her head still bandaged. She remains a bit wobbly on her feet, so she pulls up a stool to sit down in front of the cages. Her brows are lightly furrowed inward, and her lips are pressed tight together, but then they pull into a weaker version of her normal lopsided smile.

"Are you two well? I heard your machine crashed with both of you on it."

Her eyes scan over both of the prisoners, but they linger on the woman for a moment. Then they grow wide with recognition. "Wait. Aren’t you Belina Magnotto’s handmaid?"

She shrinks away from Arcadia’s gaze, hugging herself, looking at the floor. You’d think she’s in the presence of a demon, the way she’s reacting.

“Her name is Cadie,” says the man kneeling in the cage next to her. “And I am Irvin.”

Irvin isn’t kneeling like a beggar. More like a monk. Stoic. The light of the lantern plays over his unmoving face, the bald crown, the grey-tinged red hair draped about his shoulders. His gaze is fixed on Arcadia.

“According to Rekka, you weren't hired by the Empress,” says Arcadia. “So why did you try to kill us? We've done you no offense."

Her question hangs in silence for a few long moments, as the two of them stare at each other. Arcadia is upset by all this, I can tell by the forced smile, the tightness around her eyes, but she’s holding herself together.

“You haven’t. Yet,” says Irvin. “I have no ill will toward you personally, but you and your kind cannot be allowed to exist in this world.”

Arcadia’s expression hardens. “I’m sorry to tell you I’m not the only Sorceress around.”

If there’s anything Arcadia could have said that would get a reaction out of this man, she appears to have found it. Irvin’s eyes widen ever so slightly, something like fear in them for a moment. But then he leans forward a little, keeps eye contact.

“Where?” he asks.

Arcadia ignores the question, her eyes narrowing, anger in them. “What do you mean we can’t be allowed to exist?”

“Mankind once lived under the heel of the Magi,” says Irvin, iron in his voice. “Never again.”

Something about the word ‘Magi’ makes Arcadia wince when she hears it. She lets out a long sigh, slides off the stool she was sitting on, paces about for a moment. Then she rests her hip against the side of a sack of grain, arms folded, gazing at the light of the lantern. Irvin simply watches, his eyes never leaving her.

“They weren’t trying to build a better world in Telamon,” she says.

“But Telamon is the inevitable result of a world with magic,” says Irvin. “You cannot deny that.”

Arcadia lowers her head, reaches up to rub her temples. “What difference is there between the Magi and any other tyrant? On any given day people are put to the sword, or worse, for not pleasing their rulers.”

“Tyranny will always exist, yes. But magic,” Irvin has to pause, take a breath in and let it out, to compose himself. “Magic is the most effective tool of oppression that has ever existed in this world.”

Arcadia looks taken aback. "It's also the most effective tool for bettering people's lives."

She licks her lips and glances away for a moment, eyebrows furrowed in before they rise once more as her gaze returns to Irvin. "Also, if everyone is a mage, then no one is a Magus. I want to teach the entire world magic."

Irvin stares at Arcadia, mouth agape, silent for several moments. A rat chitters somewhere in the dark. I’d find the expression on his face comical, if the subject of their argument weren’t so grave. He blinks a few times, returning to his senses, fixing Arcadia with a stern look.

“You seem like a good person,” he says. “At least, I believe you consider yourself to be so. You don’t mean any harm. I think you think you have people’s best interests at heart. You’re probably just and honest and kind.”

But then his blue eyes harden again. “What of your children though. Or your future disciples. All it takes is one,” he holds up a single finger. “One student, who delights in their power. One who finds the submission of lesser beings sweet. One who desires lordship and dominion and will not hesitate to use their magic to take hold of it.”

Arcadia frowns. For a moment she simply stares at Irvin, but then she uncrosses her arms and comes back over to sit on the stool in front of his cage. She leans forward a little, resting her elbows on her knees, looking him right in the eyes.

I try not to peek at her cleavage. But, fuck it, I can’t help it.

“You aren’t wrong,” she says. “But that’s one. One among many. And that’s an easier problem to solve if everyone is on equal footing, isn’t it?”

Irvin stares at her, not flinching from the eye contact, but he doesn’t appear to have any rebuttal.

“Evil only grows when good people allow it. When they look the other way in fear for themselves, or those they care about. When they feel powerless to stop it. You think I’m ignorant about what happened in Telamon, but I’ve had better access to history books than most.”

That makes Irvin’s eyes narrow suspiciously, but Arcadia isn’t done talking. “But what if people didn’t have to live in fear of such things? What if everyone had that power?”

“You can pretend you’re above temptation,” says Irvin, his expression stony. “But once you have it before you, you’ll take it. Everyone does.”

Arcadia laughs out loud, which only makes Irvin’s expression more bitter. Then she smiles at him. “I’m sorry. I should explain. If I wanted power, or to be a tyrant, I never needed magic for that.”

Then she slips Sigrun’s ring off her finger, and Prince Arcadius of Ecea sits before them.

Looking at the faces of Irvin and Cadie, I’m reminded of the way Belina looked at Arcadia, at the baths. Or the way the crowd gazed up at her in awe, at her party that evening. The looks on the faces of the First Legion honor guard as they were swept away by a magic wind at the harbor. The awestruck look on Posca’s face, when she showed him what she can do with his vessel. My face probably looked like that as well, the first time I saw her do magic.

“…Prince Arcadius?” Irvin whispers, incredulous.

She puts the ring back on her finger, and after her body has assumed its proper shape, she smiles and shakes her head. “Arcadia the Sorceress.”

Arcadia reaches through the cage, to lay her hand on Irvin’s. “I know you’re a Candlebearer. And I know you and your brothers are convinced of the necessity of what you’re doing. But I want you to consider that there might be a better way forward. For everyone. Please think on it.”

I don’t know what a Candlebearer is, but everyone else in this room seems to. I’ll make it a point to ask Arcadia later on. For now she seems satisfied with the looks on Irvin’s and Cadie’s faces, and wants them to chew on what she just showed them. She stands up, turns to me and flashes me that smile. The one I’m a sucker for.

“Shall we get dinner?” she asks.

I grin back at her, and nod. “I’m ravenous.”