Emi frowns but trudges onward. She feels the place in the pit of her stomach. She spent far too much time blind inside the place to want to revisit it.
Nebbin starts to sweat slightly as they again approach the mausoleum. There have been so many tricks and traps over the last weeks. Is this another one? He fights the urge to pull his sword -- which he barely knew how to use last time he was here -- or run, glancing over at Kayleigh.
The sight of his brave, supremely confident girlfriend bolsters him and he takes a deep breath, continuing upward.
Well, downwards as it were. The long sloping passage dives down into the earth, under the great mound that you see from the path. The scent of grass and rain is replaced by the scent of earth and torch smoke, and dusty old bones. It seems like a great while ago at first, but as you trail Sam down the ramp your memories of this place come back clearer. In place of a vast gulf of dark, the ramp leads this time to a brightly lit grand mausoleum, with a domed ceiling that reaches twenty feet above your heads.
The walls to either side are a packed stone mosaic incorporating the articulated bones of human skeletons. The forms are posed vertically in the walls in the various gestures of the living. The wings of the room descend by steps into huge bone pits. A true ossuary containing the bones of generations of Shoanti who once lived where the city stands today.
Coming into the room now, you can see that this one great chamber was all that was ever meant to be here, and that the twisted tunnels beyond this room, and all the horrors they contained were the creation of your nemesis and his band of blue minions. The Pharasmans have resealed those tunnels now. They have been collapsed and bricked over, creating patches in the original continuous mosaic, but certainly closing them for good.
In the center of the room is a table circled by a set of wooden chairs. Seated in one of the chairs opposite your entrance is the diminutive Keppira D'Bear, de facto head of the Church of Pharasma in Korvosa. The actual Pharasman structure of authority is more complicated, and you remember hearing a rumor once that involved a scandal among their leadership, but however it played out, Keppira seems to speak now for their powerful faction.
As you enter, you would swear that the old woman slept in her seat. That, despite the soft rumbling voice of one of her two towering companions, neither of which has joined her at the table. The first is Uli, her peer, and someone you've met before. He nods in greeting to you as you enter the chamber.
The second is the largest old man any of you has ever seen. He's well over six-and-a-half feet tall, even with a slight stoop to his shoulders brought on by his age. His skin is tanned to the point of brown, wrinkled in the joints and mottled with age spots. His once heavily muscled arms and chest are the knots of a withered old tree. His skin is painted with a white, chalky paint to resemble the bones that lie beneath that loose skin. His face is painted as a stylized skull, and his long mane of hair is grey and wiry. He leans heavily on a thick wooden staff that's crowned by a large avian skull and stops speaking as you come in. You can see that his eyes are an opalescent white. There's no sign of his irises at all.
Samuel clears his throat meaningfully, then announces you.
"Mistress and Master of the house, distinguished ambassador, I bring you the five heroes spoken of earlier. Who I personally witnessed cleanse this house of the sleepless dead in a manner that showed deference and respect to your own ancestors."
He bows his head and retreats, and Uli steps forward.
"Come friends, sit as you like, please! We appreciate the ends you've gone through to meet with us tonight."
He gestures at the seats around the table. Behind you, Samuel walks back up the ramp to join the guards in their dark vigil outside.
Emi finds a seat and takes it. She truly has no idea what to expect. But, considering the unusual mix of probably important people already present, the location of the meeting, and the introduction that Samuel has given for them, she fears their plate is about to get a little more crowded.
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"Good evening," Kayleigh says to all those gathered in the ossuary. She makes a show of respect and deference to Lady d/Bear, bowing slightly before the older priestess. "I'm glad to speak with you again; the city is in an uproar."
Kayleigh's eyes are drawn to the huge Shoanti man, and she can't help comparing the giant to Nebbin. I hope Nebbin will retain his handsomeness better as he grows older she reflects before her thoughts darken. I hope Nebbin lives to see old age.
At that moment, Kayleigh has a stunning epiphany. For the first time, she sees some of herself in Lady Keppira. She wonders if this meeting is meant to be a sort of 'passing of the torch' moment between the city's older guardians and some potential younger ones. Or maybe it's a test, to see if they're worthy....
Looking around at Nebbin, Regeris, Tassira, and Emileva, Kayleigh's sudden tenseness at the thought begins to melt away. If these people mean to place the fate of Korvosa in a new set of hands, I couldn't think of a finer group to choose.
Your getting ahead of yourself, Kayleigh Fairwind! the young Milanite chides herself. They might want nothing more than to chew you out for not yet having brought Rolth to justice!
Tassira sits down at the table and sets her backpack down, letting Ravnos hop out and stretch for a good few minutes.
Nebbin takes a deep, calming breath as Samuel introduces everyone. He hadn't been sure for a moment that the big man -- it's rare he's met anyone his own size! -- wasn't undead himself. But if all the Pharasmins think he's OK, it must be fine.
He takes his seat next to Kayleigh, glancing over at Regeris as he takes the seat on the other side.
Keppira stands up and places both hands on the table surface as she speaks.
"Yes, thank you Uli. And thanks to you all for answering my request. In truth, it was at the request of ambassador Thousand Bones that we're meeting here tonight." She gestures to her left and the old Shoanti nods his head.
"Some days ago, the ambassador's grandson was killed in a riot in the streets of Old Korvosa. You," with a hand wave that seems to incorporate all of you, "witnessed some part of that riot yourselves. We failed to identify the victim, and by the time we had, we'd already dispatched messages to the ambassador to come and recover the remains of his grandson, we lost him again to the graveyard thievery that your team would eventually put an end to."
"The morticians of our house have reassembled the young man's remains from the experiments that this serial killer created and now ambassador Thousand Bones has returned to The Gray to recover the remains of his grandson, and to take them home."
"The House of Pharasma has extended our personal and deepest apologies to the ambassador for any affront this lack of care has posed to his people. The peace between the city and the tribes is a delicate one built upon hard won mutual respect. We here, wish to reaffirm that respect." Her nostrils flare at the end of the little speech and her cheek's flush.
Thousand Bones nods. When he speaks his manner is slow and precise.
"I acknowledge the words of the Mistress of Pharasma. There is no shadow between her feelings and my own. My thanks to you as well," he turns to the party, to Nebbin, "for your part in recovering the remains of my grandson."
"He was both physically and spiritually defiled by this murderer who you say stalks your city. His flesh was torn, severed, stolen, and is perhaps still being used. His spirit, I fear, was brought forth from its rest by this killer, and tormented for the knowledge it possessed."
"The tribes have taken up his mother's grief and wear it like a badge. Bringing him home will quell their fires for a time, but sentiment for your city grows thin among my people. There are those who would simply abandon you to your fates, or worse."
"That is not Sklar-Quah way, though. Sklar-Quah way is to do the hard thing. To come and collect the bones of our son, and to hear your words. To strike the hard bargain. So hear me now."
"Find the killer who defiled my boy. Make him answer for his crime, and I will tell you of my grandson's purpose, and perhaps together we may solve a wider mystery that imperils all of us. Your city, and my people."
"We're very sorry about your grandson," Nebbin explains. "I wish we'd been faster and been able to save him. We've been looking for his killer -- he's killed friends of ours -- but ... he's hard to find! He keeps escaping from us. And the plague is making it even harder!"
"Yes, and the Queen's physicians pushing into Old Korvosa has made things very trying on the island," Kayleigh chimes in. "Although...perhaps their arrival will distract Rolth and Jolistina, assuming they're still in Old Korvosa. We might be able to take Jo off-guard if we strike now."
The old man's brows knot up into a stern frown. He has a frightening air of authority about him when he speaks.
"Yet finding and killing him is the thing you must swear to. Your city sits on this sacred ground now. Your fathers took it from mine with blade and fire."
You realize he's talking to everyone in the room now. To the guards up the ramp, too. And everyone burning of the Blood Veil in the city beyond. But mostly, probably to Keppira.
"Shoanti spears cannot solve any problems inside your walls anymore. Not without knocking them down. Your city sits more vulnerable today than it has at any point in my long life, and there are those among the tribes who have noticed."
"That would be mad folly," Uli says as he sinks into one of the chairs in the room, his deep voice maintaining the calm and reasoning tone you're beginning to associate to the gaunt man. "I'm very certain that securing oaths of vengeance from our friends here on your behalf is simple enough. They have every reason to want him dead. They've lost family to his hand as well."
Thousand Bones nods in satisfaction and begins to slowly circle the room as he speaks.
"You should understand first that my people do not come to this city by choice anymore. It represents a great stain upon the honor of our people. We do not lay down the shame of our fathers and grandfathers so easily!"
He raps the packed-earth floor with a thump of his staff and keeps going.
"Those you see walking your streets today are either here with purpose, or they are kasch-ti! Cast out of their tribe, and come to your city in desperation. This is the sentiment of many of the Cinderland tribes. The Skoan-Quah, my people know different, and our relations with your city are better. But our voices are few in a sea of many."
"My grandson was not kasch-ti, but he was here in the city seeking one who is. An old crone, and the last of her line. Hers was a family within my own tribe, now long sundered and living here among the tshamek. He was sent here to find her and to take on the burden of her curse. He endured the rites and bore the mark. But he never returned to his tribe."
"His corpse has been defiled. The mark he bore was carved from his skin by this killer and stolen. What this killer might do with a patch of my grandson's flesh is beyond my ken."
He lapses into silent thought.
"We have made progress. We know who both he and his helper are. We have come close to catching them before. We have also learned he seems to be interested in locating places that were here before the city, very old places that can no longer be seen from the surface."
"He also knows us now, so there can be no turning away. It is either him or us. Ours may be a slow duel, but it is now a duel nonetheless."
Emi switches to Shoanti.
"Hiki iā ia ke hoʻopau i hoʻokahi ʻaoʻao a i ʻole ua make kekahi."
"It can only end one one side or the other is dead."
"If you want an oath from us, you can have it. But we have already moved far past the time when it is needed."
Regeris, who has been silent and moody the entire journey, finally speaks up, somewhat formally.
"I am honoured that you have made this journey to ask this of us, Thousand Bones. Your request is heard and respected. I wear that by the rose of Milani I swear I will bring Rolth Lamm to justice, or die in the attempt."
He lets the words stand for a moment before speaking further. "Rolth is our greatest foe and has wrought personal horrors on all of us as vengeance for when my friends slew his father. Emi is correct when she says this was already our goal, although the urgency and importance of this goal is renewed. The plague has severely diverted our energy and resources. But I believe we are ready to renew our efforts to find this man and stop him."
He looks to his companions expectantly.
"More than ready." Tassira's eyes narrow.
Ravnos hisses in agreement.
Kayleigh initially resists swearing the oath Thousand Bones demands: She serves Milani, not some Shoanti shaman. But when Regeris swears on Milani's rose to hunt down Rolth, Kayleigh relents. The blood veil remains her top enemy in the city, but it's everywhere and seemingly unconquerable. Rolth, however, has escaped justice for too long simply by slipping down her list of priorities, so the priestess welcomes the idea of eradicating a lesser evil from the city. No, not a lesser evil, really; one that she and her friends are capable of excising if they can but find the bastard.
Addressing Thousand Bones, Kayleigh asks, "Who is this crone your grandson came here to find? And what was her curse?"
Nebbin nods. "We promise we'll find him," he says. "He's killed too many people, and done horrible things, not just to your grandson but to our friend Neziana and other people too! I -- I don't really have anything to swear on, but I do have a sword, so I guess I can swear on that. If we can't stop him, may it rust and shatter into a million pieces!"
I hope that's good. Usually I can just tell people I'll do something, but I think he wanted more.
He glances over his shoulder at his blade, wondering if he'd even be that upset if it were to shatter and rust, not that he means any less to hunt down Rolth. That's been his goal for some time now.
"Athanica is her name. Old as me, she is. Withered and gray as well I would imagine, that is assuming she still lives. She would be the boy's great-aunt had she not been cast out of the tribe long ago. She bore Ilthamanok, Midnight's Curse, and should have passed it on to Graekhan."
"I fear that no one bears the curse anymore. Our stories tell us that when the curse fails, that the wards that contain the spirit of Midnight will be weakened. Midnight's spirit must not be allowed to escape its prison in the void!"
He raps his staff on the floor again to emphasize his point.
You cannot argue with him, because you have no idea what he's talking about. Keppira looks equally nonplussed.
"Ilthamanok is not a custom I understand, Thousand Bones. How was the old woman cursed?" she asks.
He crosses his arms and regards the lot of you with unseeing eyes before finally answering.
"The bearer of the curse must hold the key to Midnight's prison. In the belly of the Grand Mastaba he is trapped as long as the curse is borne."
"But what is Midnight?" she tries again.
Thousand Bones frowns and shakes his head.
"The stories do not remember. Other elders must be sought. Ancestor spirits consulted."
"You fulfill your oaths and kill this creature who digs where he should not. This man who has killed my boy, and your kin. Come and visit me when you have done this. If you deliver this vengeance to the family of Graekhan, you might earn the favor of our ancestors, and find answers to your questions."
Kayleigh listens stoically to Thousand Bones' words, trying in vain to find meaning in them. Nonetheless, she does her best to hide her growing frustration with the old man. Though she generally has a strong rapport with older folks (High Priestess d'Bear, the priests of Aroden), those wise folks tend to say what they mean...the occasional double entendre from Crayden notwithstanding.
"Well, I guess our path to Rolth likely leads through his lady friend, Jolistina," Kayleigh states flatly to the others. "Do we want to bring in some help to minimize her chance to escape? Or do you think that maybe our striking at her might bring Rolth out of hiding to us?"
Emi begins to wonder if they aren't merely ornamentation at the meeting, props to help pacify the old Shoanti man. They've heard nothing of use as far as she can tell, and traveled a long time for the privilege.
She shifts a little in her chair and keeps her mouth shut. Emi would rather not talk about specific plans right in front of everyone at the table. Doing so would probably only reveal how badly formed their ideas for doing anything about Rolth actually are.
Regeris decides not to interrogate Thousand Bones' vague warnings but instead just decides that whatever he's talking about is probably important. "Rolth must die. We will see to that and we will learn about what you speak of."
He looks around the table. "Although we have our leads on Rolth we are still hunting him. Do any here have recent information on his activities?" Regeris looks to the Pharasmans and Thousand Bones.
Nebbin shakes his head, indicating he has no recent information on Rolth's activities. "Last time we saw him was a long time ago. But we know his girlfriend (maybe?) stays at the Artist's Overground." It's the best he can offer to answer Regeris' question.
Keppira looks over at Uli and the young man clears his throat before taking another run at the cryptic shaman.
"Ambassador, I'm not sure we understand our questions well enough to seek answers yet..."
Thousand Bones raps his staff again and nods his head. "Yes! This is wisdom. We don't yet know our questions! Does Athanica yet breathe? Did Graekhan take up the curse before he was murdered? If Athanica is dead, what did Graekhan learn of her burden prior to his own death?"
"We will keep our own counsels on these questions, and perhaps call out to his spirit for guidance. The tribes must frankly take up counsel on our roles in these matters. Bring vengeance to Graekhan's mother and I will seek more answers for you."
With this last bit said, the old man turns on his heel and stumps back up the long ramp.
When he's gone, Keppira blows out her cheeks.
"I swear to the Gray Lady's throne, Uli. If I ever grow that bad you must smother me in my sleep. He's going to seek answers to our questions?"
She stands and begins wandering around the chamber as she continues.
"It seems to me that he and his grandson have come to our city to seek answers of their own."
She turns to Uli. "What chance do we have of tracking down this cursed Shoanti crone?" She looks over at you all, but can't really be expecting any of you to know of her. She strays close to the wall to stand beside the bones of a massive Shoanti warrior, forever frozen in the stance of his trade.
"What is this Midnight spirit and its curse? And what has it to do with the Grand Mastaba?"
"Of course the pyramid predates the Shoanti tribes. Perhaps he speaks of something trapped within the structure that dates back to the elder days. To Old Thassilon," Uli adds.
Kayleigh sighs, tired and frustrated. "We'll do what we can--as soon as possible--to deal with Rolth...and maybe look into this Midnight spirit thing, too," Kayleigh promises. "But honestly, I came to speak with Lady d'Bear about the effects the blood veil is having on Old Korvosa and what effects, if any, the Queen's physicians are having on the blood veil." Kayleigh goes on to tell the Pharasmin high priestess all that has transpired on Old Korvosa since they last spoke. She's particularly interested in the older woman's take on how Carawyn was treated, especially the drawing of some of her blood.
Nebbin waits for Lady d'Bear to answer Kayleigh's question, though he also wonders if Uli will answer Lady d'Bear's questions.
Emi keeps quiet and waits. It all seems mirky and political to her. Coming to hear they should be hurrying to find Rolth has been a day spent that could otherwise have been used to do something of that sort.
Regeris pinches the bridge of his nose bit slowly nods. "The fact this entire city is built around a gigantic spooky pyramid has been an object of some discussion I'll admit. Thousand Bones is uh..." He looks to the retreating figures. "Baffling. But whatever mysteries he knows, our first goal is to locate and stop Rolth. If he has a key to whatever is going on in this city, what evil is plaguing it, I wnat that key."
Tassira thinks, then solemnly nods in agreement.
"...you know what I just realized? It's circumstances like these that convince people that making deals with devils is a good idea." She looks at the rest of the party. "It isn't right, and you know it isn't right, but when you feel helpless to otherwise effect anything and you have no other options..."
She trails off.
She continues to pace as she listens and replies.
"Yes, I've heard of this practice of bleeding or gathering blood for testing or some such. It all seems very barbaric, doesn't it? I don't know anything of their approach. They're quite secret and frankly condescending about their methods. And the authority they carry directly from the queen has shielded them from scrutiny."
"These pushes that they do... they rouse out the sick and dead in the areas they go to - with our help, of course - and I cannot help but feel that this might be helpful to those families in the long run. They seem to be very good at rounding up the sick and transporting them off for care, but I cannot say how often they're curing them and releasing them back to their families."
"This 'Coin in Every Hand' policy of theirs? I can't fault them for handing out money to the masses. And at the rate of infection, the amount coming out of the Queen's coffers must be significant."
"We take away many dead from their hospices," Uli says. "But by all accounts they take more through their doors, so they must be curing some and returning them to their homes. Like this girl, Carawyn who returned to your temple."
"Yes, but they did not heal her, but rather examined her and perhaps drew her blood because she'd had the disease," Keppira retorts.
The room falls into a quiet worthy of its original purpose.
Keppira happens to be standing behind Tassira when she offers her thoughts. She steps up behind the young mage's chair and places a hand on her shoulder. Tassira feels a wash of warm positivity, like a breeze blowing on a hot day or the feeling of Ravnos brushing her leg with affection.
"Only for weak spirits, Tassira. No one gets to pick their circumstances and some are born to hard and bitter lives. Demons that may seem small to some dominate the lives of others. The strong will rally to one another. Will find faith and maybe direction in the power of benevolent gods. Will martyr themselves to their morals, if ultimately that's what their fates have handed them."
"Devils prey on the weak. And devils prey on the evil. Happily, there's none of the former here, and thanks to your own hands there's no longer any of the latter either. There's a whole study on that 'turn to devils' thing going on up at the top of that hill... one that I think you purposely avoided attending, much to your credit." She waves indistinctly in the direction of the Acadamae.
She continues pacing around the room. The scale of the Shoanti skeletons in the wall behind her make her look like an old halfling.
"Be that as it may, you've all heard my accusations against the Queen, so of course I suspect these doctors as her tool. I very strongly suspect her of regicide, and I believe the missing Seneschal of the castle could give testimony that would prove that charge. Now an elder shaman comes to us with a tale of stirring evil under the castle, which is something else the Seneschal might be uniquely suited to know of. All of which brings us to the other reason I asked you to come here."
"In my own inquiries along the Seneschal's path, I've learned something that may be the key to finding him. Forgive my indiscretion here, I would not speak so of the man were his life not in mortal danger. We have learned that he kept a secret lover in the city, and we think it's possible that this lover now hides him, or at least will know where he hides."
"Some of this intelligence points to the identity of his lover as someone who's known to you, and to us as well, and I thought that you may be well placed to subtly contact him and find out if this could be true."
"It is Vencarlo Orisini, the master of the dueling school on Garrison Hill."
Finally! A straightforward lead that should be free and clear of any unforeseen complications! Kayleigh glances at Emileva before speaking.
"Lady d'Bear, Milani has granted me additional power against the blood veil since last we spoke," she begins. "When I channel positive energy, I can remove a disease from two people as well. I have five channels remaining today. Are there any people you know who've contracted the blood veil? If my healing isn't needed here, can you get us back to Old Korvosa tonight? There may be folks at the Orisini Academy who are suffering from the blood veil who could benefit from my channels."
Including Emi's secret crush there!
"Oh, yeah, we know Vencarlo. He was nice," Nebbin affirms. "Maybe we could ask him about the seneschal? Though if we do that, we're not hunting Rolth. There's just so much to do. Oh! What if we ask Vencarlo to help us find Rolth, and then when he sees how well we work together, he'll trust us more and will tell us where the seneschal is? If he knows... If he doesn't, maybe we can help him find him."
Emi has only been about half listening to the conversation until Vencarlo Orisini enter into it. His name brings her back to full attention, if not in a pleasant way. While it's a surprising direction for it to come from, the news of other lovers isn't. As much as she might have hoped it to be so, deep down she knew she could never hold his sole attention. Still, it's a bitter pill to hear it confirmed.
Emi keeps her voice neutral, or at least that's her intention.
"Yes, we should visit Master Orisini and ask about the Seneschal."
Emi seems a little sad and isn't enthusiastic about going to the Academy to see Orisini.
Kayleigh gives a simple nod to Emi's words.
I actually thought for a second that Kayleigh could/would hit that DC. I actually said, "Come on--18!" aloud when I clicked to preview the post and see the (inevitable) result.
Nebbin nods. "We probably should go in the morning, though, right? We don't want to disturb him at night. Unless, maybe the seneschal is there right now."
Tassira's eyes flick over to Emi at the mention of Vencarlo Orisini having other lovers. For anyone else, the sellsword's face would've been an impressive mask of stoicism--but Tassira can tell that the news of Orisini having other lovers is stinging her.
She doesn't say anything, but she does give Emi a comforting pat on the shoulder.
"I rely on your sense of discretion," she begins to say to Nebbin but ends up saying to Emileva.
"If he is in contact with Neolandus, for whatever reason, we must offer the Seneschal safe harbor to the Gray, just as you have just done yourselves, by the barge. Vencarlo himself may be in danger, for surely the Queen seeks Neolandus, and any rumor capable of coming to me is capable of coming to her. He too must be offered sanctuary within the Gray, though he will likely refuse it."
She looks around at each of you as she talks, addressing a little part of her speech to everyone, but finally her eyes come to rest on Kayleigh.
"I know... very well... about the toll this plague is taking. The sisters and brothers of the Gray count and care for all those who pass. I understand that Bridgefront burns with the fever of it, and rest assured that we will continue to find solutions to help the poor there, working around the Physicians as necessary to do so."
"This gift you've been granted is a harbor in the tempest. Of course you must use it to save the living. It would surely be an affront to your goddess to do any less. In our orders we honor anyone burdened with such power. It can bring a great weight of guilt, Kayleigh, to touch such power but fail to convey it to the place its needed." There's an offer in there, in the tone and the expression. Priestess to priestess, across generations and religions.
"But we must not allow the tragedy and terror of this sickness to become the cloak the Queen uses to cover her crimes. Neolandus seems like a key to bringing eventual justice to the King and to the City."
"And perhaps he even knows something of Ilthanamok and the Shoanti Midnight spirit."
"Ilthamanok." Uli corrects.
---
Outside the barrow a light rain still falls on the Gray. Once your eyes have adjusted to the low level moonlight, you follow Sam back down the track to the mass grave site in Potter's Ward. Not by coincidence, a team of workers in drab hoods and cloaks, heavy with rain, step up into a wain one by one and find shelter on benches normally reserved for the dead. Donning the new cloaks handed your way, you join the queue.
An hour later, you step onto the pier in Old Dock and hand in those same robes. Those same five workers - your doubles! you think as you pass them, begin hauling corpses from two wains onto the freshly docked barge.
Regeris remains quiet as he simply takes in the political complications. The Queen as a regicide is more or less accepted fact despite no real evidence, but Vencarlo as the link to the missing seneschal is another matter entirely. Also, importantly, a lead.
Regeris isn't even paying attention to Emi as Vencarlo's name is dropped.
So now we care about the Seneschal and not Rolth? Perhaps this is all
entwined. It's too big not to be. All roads in that city lead to that pyramid.
As Regeris steps foot once more on the familiar soil of Endrin Isle he looks to the others. "A lead on Korvosa's most notorious missing person. I have to say I'm interested and at this point I'm willing to chase what we have in front of us. To the Academy or do we need to look elsewhere first?"
Though the hour is late, Kayleigh agrees with Regeris that a visit to Orisini Academy wouldn't be a bad thing. She's still got several disease-removing channels yet to burn and doesn't want them going to waste.
Emi can think of no reason to sleep on it.
"We can go to Master Orisini's Academy if we go right now. I know the way, but I can't say I know him well enough to show up knocking at an overly late hour."
"This isn't a social call. We can be rude." Regeris takes off into the evening.
Tassira shrugs and glances at Emi. "I don't reckon any of us know him well enough for that, but when has that been important as of late? What matters is that, his ill-advised secrecy aside, we need his assistance now."
"It's not your fault, Emi. He should've been honest with you."
"I don't think we should be rude!" Nebbin objects. "He's always been nice to us, right? But maybe he's up late, especially if the seneschal is there."
He nods, adjusts his sword, and follows Emi to the academy, blissfully unaware of any secret messages that anyone in the group may be passing, or emotions they may be feeling.
Slipping back into the dark, wet streets, the group picks its way from awning to awning up Garrison Hill. It is very late and most lights are out along the Boulevard, but turning the corner at the top you can see that some lights within the academy yet burn. The rain has driven all but the most stalwart inside and you feel confident in the stealth of your approach to the place.
For those who haven't been to Vencarlo's dueling academy before, the building is a large, rambling thing with wings that enclose a courtyard in the back. Just beyond the building is the dark outline of the old city wall.
The door knock looks like a dragon's head, but tapping it brings no immediate response. Just as you turn to face one another to discuss a new plan, the speak-easy in the door slides open and a man's voice asks in a tone laden with irritation or unease, "Who knocks at this hour?"