Chapter Twenty-Six: Better Produce

+++++Ezra+++++

"You need to let us have the draughtsman's eye," Plenakton stated. "It is too valuable to hand over to the likes of Stomen Blose."

Ezra was inclined to agree, though he didn't care for how Plenakton had simply strolled into Ezra's room and stated it. The infernic leader eyed the device with something between curiosity and covetousness. Honestly, the thing wasn't that big of a deal. Apparently, they were just about impossible to buy since any sorcerer with the skill and means to make one wanted the thing for their personal use, and it's not like they were a dealbreaker when it came to security. Getting into Fenrik's sigiled-up safe had been a lot more difficult than getting into Gladion's safe, even without Rill at the ready to weld a hole in the metal with her hands. Ezra missed her…

"Do you know where Rill is?" Ezra asked.

"This Fenrik has taken her into the company of other mages, though we don't yet know where," Plenakton said. "Berhu insists you have value and that I ought to cultivate your favor, and so I am asking nicely for you to hand it over to me. I could just take it."

"You probably could," Ezra said.

He uncurled himself from his bed and padded over to Plenakton. Ezra wasn't short - in fact, he'd sprung up another five or six centimeters in the past few months, transitioning from average height to what most people would call tall. Plenakton was still a full head taller than him and probably weighed twice what he did - whether it was a contest of force or one of magic, Plenakton could probably take what he wanted from Ezra, though it was by no means guaranteed. And, to Plenakton's surprise, Ezra carefully lifted the draughtsman's eye from his little desk and handed it over.

"I… you're handing it over?" Plenakton asked.

"Would you rather retrieve the fire goddess or possess that fancy toy? It's valuable, to be sure, but it doesn't do anything that an attentive guard with a pistol and above-average aim can't do. Which do you want?"

"I want both, of course," Plenakton said. "We wish to learn how mortal magic works - it isn't instinctual to them the way it is to us, but the power of the greatest mages puts ours to shame. We cannot hope to overturn their corrupt order without the tools to do so. These soul stones that Berhu obtained are useful… I haven't yet decided whether to destroy them or use them…"

Ezra laughed - Plenakton did not appreciate that. "Let me get this straight… you, the noble leader of demonic freedom across the continent, think it might be a good idea to summon more demons into infernic bodies?"

Plenakton snorted. "You're a different sort - you don't understand. On your strange world, demons had bodies just as humans do. A body is a sort of shackle, but it's a bond that gives meaning to existence, whereas a thrall-plug rips it away. There is no wrong in bringing demons into this world, provided they are free. If their existence here is really so bad, they can kill themselves and return from whence they came."

"I've heard that before but, as far as I know, there's no corroboration for that. The fact is we don't know what happens, just as the races of this world don't know with any certainty what happens when they die. I don't want Rill to die here, Plenakton, because, even if her soul doesn't die with her body, I'm almost certain that I'll never see her again… and…" Ezra looked away so Plenakton wouldn't see that he was tearing up. "I've never met anybody like her. That thing is my key to getting her back, or at least trying. Are you really saying that thing is more valuable than her?"

"Ultimately, we are all expendable," Plenakton stated. "I will gladly leave this body if our movement requires it, and if Rill must be sacrificed for the greater good…"

"So you're saying this thing is worth her sacrifice?"

Plenakton scowled, but his infamous temper did not flare. "No," he said eventually. "No ifrit with one tenth that power has ever been summoned to Medias, and I wouldn't squander that." With a sigh, he placed the draughtsman's eye back on Ezra's desk. "Very well, Ezra - but Berhu goes with you, and you will do as she says."

"Fine." Ezra stuck out his hand. "As the humans seal a pact…"

Plenakton's huge hand grasped his and they shook on it. The infernic leader held his grip for a minute longer than strictly necessary, his odd violet eyes seeming to gaze right into Ezra. "I've placed a great deal of trust in you. If you make me regret it, neither of us is likely to be happy. Do you understand? Good."

+++++Ezra+++++

Predictably, Gladion was on the offensive after the theft of his defensive artifact along with most of his soul crystals. The one guard who'd gotten a look at Ezra would be able to confirm that it was him - even with a kao-etema's poor eyesight, it wasn't particularly hard to identify a human infernic whose eyes glowed like the sun. Fortunately, nobody had spotted Berhu, and so there was no reason to suspect Plenakton… though that didn't mean Gladion didn't suspect it anyway. He and a trio of henchmen stormed down to the general area of Plenakton's residence and shouted until somebody led him in to try to placate him before the constables showed up.

They were treating the theft at Gladion's as just that - a theft. There was nothing illegal about owning soul crystals, even if the manner in which Gladion procured them was fairly illegal and definitely unethical. The constables swept through the old city, cracking heads and bringing in any infernics they found (a few of whom actually worked with or for Plenakton) as well as any urmal Nates who offered the slightest resistance. Within a day, it wasn't safe for anybody to be in the streets, not even the constables, who marched around in groups of eight - four guards and four prymen enforcers. 

Ezra watched them marching by, occasionally taking bribes from borrenkin thugs to look (or not look) in one direction or another. Unlike with free infernics, who were illegal by virtue of who they were, the borrenkin could get away with quite a lot. Even with a convincing disguise, the constables would always wonder why a human or kao-etema was trying to bribe them in the Old City, since everybody knew that's where the borrenkin and the urmal had their criminal enterprises. The humans and kao-alta kingpins had their turf in Portside clear across the Bastian River.

"Ready to hand the damn thing over?" Berhu asked.

Her eyes glittered green in the afternoon light. When she wasn't scowling at you, Berhu's face was open and expressive, which was rare among kao-alta… but, then again, she was not kao-alta, even if she had the body of one. Ezra would have preferred Rill every day of the week and twice on Lastday, but it was not surprising that some humans found something alluring in the fine features, blue skin, lean build, and silken ruffs of the kao-alta, even if their sharp little teeth always struck Ezra as a bit threatening. Much like same-sex marriages, cross-species marriages were illegal in St. Arbalest, though affairs and liaisons were an open secret and not especially uncommon.

"Let's find Rill," Ezra said. He slid his light-absorbing contacts in and carefully packed the artifice in a wooden crate labeled for produce delivery.

They passed through the tenement blocks in between Plenakton's unofficial fiefdom and Blose's turf - they'd arranged to meet at a warehouse that belonged to one of Blose's associates, but one who was also friendly to Plenakton. That was about as neutral as territory got in the Old City. As they passed the splintered remains of what had until recently been an open air market, some of the stalls still trailing up smoke from where the constables had burned contraband, urmal and dorthek residents shuffled about to watch them pass.

The market was an unfortunate casualty in the escalating tensions that Gladion had caused. Well… obviously, Ezra had provoked Gladion's ire, but it was Gladion whose anger threatened to burn the whole district down. Unable to control their lives, people were understandably angry and on-edge. As the two of them passed, some of the onlookers mumbled loud enough for Ezra to hear, even if his hearing wasn't far better than it ought to have been.

"What the fuck are you doing in our neighborhood, human?"

"Go home to your soft bed and honeyed perfumes, you kao bitch."

The look that Berhu shot them was of such contempt that, even if she wasn't broadly recognizable as Plenakton's second  in command most folks would have backed off - and most of them did. That contempt wasn't for the residents of the tenement, though - she hated being called a kao-alta, even if she was happy to accept the privilege that passing as one often entailed. Unfortunately, in times like this, it also drew more attention than Ezra would have liked.

"Excuse me! Sir! Miss!" a kao-alta constable called after them. Ezra and Berhu stopped long enough to let him catch up - it was either that or take off while carrying a 'produce' box that was just large enough to be cumbersome.

"Can I help you, officer?" Berhu asked - she could do a passably upper-crust accent when she wanted to.

"Yes, madam - I'm sure you know we've had unrest in these parts and this neighborhood isn't safe. Even constables don't wander around alone." He gestured across the street, to where the other seven members of his unit were busy interrogating a shop owner with a bit too much vigor. "Can I ask you what you're doing out here?"

"Just delivering some produce for my…" Berhu shared a sly glance with Ezra… "friend's uncle. We're very good friends." The meaning behind that was clear enough - they'd gone to the bad part of town to enjoy a not-technically-illegal tryst. The constable clearly understood.

"I see," he said. "Would you mind if I took a peek inside the box?"

It was less of a suggestion than a command, so Ezra pried the top off of the box and let the constable take a look inside. The contents of the box were pretty clearly not produce.

"Um… this isn't produce, sir," the officer looked over his sunglasses at Ezra. "Mind telling me what it actually is?"

"A surveying tool - a present for my uncle. Would you like to see how it works?"

The constable nodded. "If you don't mind."

Ezra removed the draughtsman's eye and carefully balanced its little tripod legs against the street. He fished around in his pocket for the low-grade crystals he'd brought, just in case Blose demanded a demonstration before accepting the device. He carefully loaded them in the prescribed order - if the colors weren't right, the magical shaping would be pure nonsense or, worse yet, could destroy the device. He charged each crystal before turning to Berhu.

"Dear, would you mind? You know I'm all thumbs when it comes to this sort of thing."

"Of course!"

It was a good thing the crystals were shoddy, because Berhu could only push the energy of the crystals through in one go instead of a bit at a time, as was the normal anti-personnel function of the device. The eye emitted a little buzzing sound and, instantaneously, the gray bricks in the building they'd aimed at made a little pop and white smoke drifted out from a tiny cylindrical hole that the device had just created. A hole that, obviously, could have been punched right into anybody who'd been in the way of the invisible magical beam.

"See?" Ezra said. "The gyro keeps the beam perfectly stable to ground level, so all you have to do is aim and you've got yourself a perfectly-level marker. My uncle's always tooling around and trying to improve the house and we thought this might help with his projects. And, if not, it's a neat novelty."

The constable whistled. "Wish I could afford fancy magical toys… but I have enough trouble charging lighting crystals. Say… it's dangerous to carry something like this through a neighborhood like this. Would you like us to escort you?" He gestured back toward the other constables.

"No, we'll be fine, thanks," Berhu said. "Thanks for understanding!"

"Stay safe, you two," the constable said, and he ambled off to join his friends.

There were definitely benefits to passing as a human or a kao-alta, Ezra reflected. If he'd been summoned into the body of a dorthek or an urmal, he'd always get scrutiny - and not of the deferential benefit-of-the-doubt kind - whenever he ventured into 'polite' society. As things were, he could go pretty much wherever he wanted… unless and until somebody recognized him, at which point he was in a world of trouble. And, unfortunately, the list of people who recognized him grew by the day.

"I think this is the place," Berhu said. In classic Old City style, the warehouse was large, old, and built mostly of smoke-gray brick.

+++++Ezra+++++

Ezra wasn't quite sure what he expected, but it wasn't Stomen Blose and a trio of his men milling about the back office of the warehouse and swigging back huge gulps of grain alcohol, which was about the only thing that could get a borrenkin decently drunk. Ezra wasn't sure whether he even could get drunk - he supposed it depended on whether his body treated inebriation as harm and 'healed' him out of it. He'd have to give it a shot someday.

"Ah, here our infernic friends are! We were betting on whether or not you'd show with my draughtsman's eye," Blose said. He clunked a bottle of alcohol down a little too forcefully and lumbered over to them, his dark eyes perhaps trying to detect nerves or any hint of deceit in Ezra's bearing.

"What good does it do see whether people are afraid of you?" Ezra asked. "People are naturally afraid of you, Mr. Blose."

Blose gave that a thoughtful nod. "But you're not. Why do you suppose that is? Not afraid that I'm going to double-cross you, string you up, and hand you over for the… what is it up to now? Fifteen stack bounty, I believe. What's to prevent that?"

"You wouldn't…" Berhu said.

Bose waved her objection off. "We'd let you go, obviously, my sweet blue Berhu. Your bounty is only two stacks… hardly worth it at all. You've got to make enemies with more sorcerers, I suppose. So, Ezra… shall I just take my draughtsman's eye and have my men bring you in?"

Ezra didn't break Blose's dark-eyed gaze. "If you aren't planning on actually using the thing, I suppose I can't stop you. But if you want to load the thing without breaking it, I'm not sure there's any way to do that unless you already know the order the crystals go in. Do you happen to know the order? And, if not, will a mage-for-hire be able to figure it out? Honestly, I've got no idea."

Blose laughed. "The stamen on this one! Fine, you've earned my blind eye on your bounty as well as the location of your girl - provided you can show me that this thing is the real deal. Come on."

He pushed past them and out into the dim expanse of warehouse beyond. One of Blose's thugs was out there, feet propped up and idly reading from a pamphlet while a tied-up urmal man with a wide-eyed panicked look watched them approach. With a little flourish, Blose handed a battered folder of documents to Ezra.

"Here it is - the location of your girl. Take a few minutes to look over it if you like. And then I'd like for you to demonstrate that this thing works… and, if I like what I see, I'll let you leave." He gestured toward the urmal man, bound and gagged and strapped to a rickety wooden chair. He wore the brown tweed suit of a man of means, now slightly stained with dirt and blood. Blose wanted Ezra to use the device to kill the man.

"Who is he?" Ezra asked.

"Does it matter?"

"Yes. If he's a decent man, then I'm not going to point the draughtsman's eye at him. What has he done?"

Blose shrugged. "He's been fool enough to cross both myself and the Nates. A man doesn't last long doing dirty things without a shred of protection. Not in my city."

"He's dead whether or not I help with it," Ezra stated.

It wasn't a question, but Blose replied anyway: "Oh, most assuredly. Now, Ezra, please set up the damn device. I'm about an hour away from my bedtime and I really don't want another reason to be annoyed at you."

Ezra looked to Berhu for moral guidance but, unlike Anise, she wasn't particularly nonplussed at the notion of killing a lowlife. It was Ezra's impression that Berhu didn't care about much of anybody unless they were infernic or took time to build her trust. Preferably both, though she seemed to tolerate Anise pretty well now. In her own strange way, she seemed to like Ezra, though she certainly would never admit as much. Right now, though, she shot him a slightly annoyed look, since he hadn't yet begun to deploy the artifact.

He took a look in the folder that Blose had just handed him. It contained the picture that they'd already showed him along with four or five others - Rill unconscious and attached to some sort of device, a new thrall-plug visibly jutting from her chest just below her breasts. Five or six other people, presumably infernics, were also in the facility. They were all attached to some sort of complex magical device whose function Ezra couldn't even guess at. The folder also contained floor plans for a facility with, it appeared, the same basic floor plan as wherever Rill was. The top of the blueprint was labeled: Arbalest Parliamentary Medical Research Facility 01. They had her stashed away in a top secret research facility. She'd been there for days and days now… they'd put a thrall plug back in her chest and were keeping her unconscious to… do what? Power some sort of machine?

Ezra crouched down and set up the machine, powering his crystals and sliding them into place without really thinking about it. He spun on his heels and walked out of the facility, not even bothering to check whether the hum and subsequent cracking and muffled screaming noises were from the urmal man captive to Blose. He didn't give a damn. He was getting Rill back.

OvidLemma

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