CLEO – Ashenshore

  “And so, my shield was barely able to withstand the being’s attacks,” Cleo continued, to disparage her efforts in an attempt to head off questions she didn’t want to answer. She didn’t like lying, but sometimes deception was the only option. “And then it opened a portal to… somewhere.”

  She’d left several important details out of her story, namely the real strength of her Energy Shield, its Retribution ability, and her Despair curse. Cleo was sure that neither Neridur or Aldrikur would deviate from their fictional story of the encounter, and she thought it best to keep her other abilities to herself. To reveal more would lead to questions, and those questions to more questions she wouldn’t want to answer.

  Commander Magnus’ assistant, Dalvin, spoke. “How did the portal open?”

  “How? I don’t know, it just—”

  “Did it coalesce? Or did a slash in reality form? A tear? Or something else?”

  Cleo was rapidly forming an impression that the man was far more than a secretary or assistant. Based on Magnus’ rank in the Imperial Legion, and his command of the Gravelands, she wouldn’t be surprised if his assistant was a high tiered mage. And his detailed questions seemed to confirm her theory.

  She thought for a long moment, recalling all she could of the culmination of the fraught encounter. “It created its own shield, first. A barrier of some sort, but it wasn’t anything like my Energy Shield, which emits a faint blue haze. The being’s shield was invisible, until it was hit, that is.”

  Magnus and his attendant exchanged glances.

  “Continue,” the Commander said.

  Cleo shifted her weight nervously. The three researchers had remained in the Commander’s office, along with a few legionnaire officers of indeterminate rank. None of the onlookers had spoken, yet, and their intense regard of Cleo and her conversation with Magnus left her heart racing and her hands sweaty, and she could feel a headache coming on. She dabbed her palms on her trousers, as luckily she’d had a few moments to finish off her nuts, but her fingers were still sticky.

  “Aldrikur had wounded it, then the shield appeared to protect the being.”

  “Did it say anything?” Dalvin asked.

  “It… may have? It definitely screeched. But if the sounds it made were words in a language I don’t know, then—” Cleo broke off abruptly. Wouldn’t she have understood, given her gift of languages from Mau?

  “Have you thought of something?” Magnus said.

  “No.” Cleo shook her head. “I was just trying to recall more details. The being screeched, but it didn’t say anything that sounded like words. Not that I would know what words in its language would sound like!”

  “But you seem sure that it would have a language? As any reasoning race of beings would?”

  “Yes. That’s a fair assumption.”

  Magnus grunted and sat back in his chair. “Go on. What happened next?”

  “The wound Aldrikur gave it started to rapidly heal, and so did its armor.”

  “Advanced regeneration, probably,” the tall, blonde researcher said. “Combined with self-repairing armor. Likely cards and artifacts. If there were no words spoken then it couldn’t be—”

  “Yes,” Dalvin interrupted. “For which we are fortunate. I’ll make a note.” And he did just that, scribbling in his book.

  Cleo was sure she’d missed an entire subtext of what the researcher’s comment meant. It was clear that the ‘no words spoken’ meant something important, but what? Dalvin and the researcher knew, and presumably Magnus, but the assistant had cut the researcher off before he could say more. Maybe it was a military secret that the researcher knew about, somehow.

  “Next,” Cleo said, eager to finish and be gone from here, “there was a loud crack, like a lightning strike, and a black rent in the air opened. It sounded like cloth tearing.”

  “Are you sure?” Dalvin asked as he wrote.

  “Yes. Then the being went through the rent and it zippered shut.”

  “Zippered?” Magnus said.

  “Er…” Of course they wouldn’t know what a zipper was! “It closed from one end to the other.” She made an awkward approximation with her flattened hands, wrist to fingertips, and racked her brain for something similar they might recognize. “A merging, like stitching a wound closed, maybe?”

  “Ah, I can visualize it now, thank you Cleo. And that was all, it vanished into the portal and nothing else happened?”

  “That’s it.”

  “Dalvin, do you have any questions for her? If not, then she can go.”

  “None from me, Commander.”

  “I have some,” said the researcher.

  “All right, Aedan,” Magnus said. “But make it quick. We’ve a lot to do, and the other Legions need to be informed, as does the Empress, may she live forever.”

  “I’ll be brief,” Aedan said.

  Cleo pursed her lips and let out a slow breath. The researcher was on first name terms with the Commander. As far as she could figure out, in pretty much any culture that meant more than just a passing familiarity. Did it mean they were of similar rank, somehow? Or just good friends? Perhaps Aedan had been coming here for years to further his research and that’s how they knew each other? But his fellow researchers looked suspiciously not-researchery… Which meant… they were there to protect him. Well, that was already obvious. The two of them hadn’t said a word, they just lingered menacingly.

  So this researcher, Aedan, was someone of note and worth protecting.

  “What color was the portal, or the hole in reality as some would describe it?”

  “It was black,” Cleo said. “Pitch black.”

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  Aedan raised his eyebrows. “Just black? No other colors?”

  “No.”

  “You seem very sure.”

  “I am. Oh, and I just remembered that it created a frost on the ground.”

  “The being?”

  “No, the portal, as if it sucked the heat from the air. Maybe it was freezing on the other side, wherever that was, or maybe the magic transferred heat from the air to itself for some reason?”

  Aedan nodded slowly. “Hmm… but the air around you wasn’t hot, was it? There wasn’t a lot of heat.”

  “No, but there’s a fair amount of energy in the latent heat of solidification of water.” Science! Finally, it was of some use. “So the frost must have come from the moisture in the air. Either way, the heat had to have transferred somewhere, naturally, if it was extremely cold on the other side of the portal, or magically, if the portal used the heat energy from the water. Or maybe the space between the two portal openings is freezing…” Cleo trailed off as she noticed that everyone was staring at her. “Um… it takes a lot of energy to transform water from a solid to a liquid. More than you’d think. And this was the reverse, so… I’ll stop talking now.” Damn it, that wasn’t something the average person here would know—at least, in the terms she’d used.

  Commander Magnus frowned, while his assistant, Dalvin, remained studiously expressionless. Aedan, an unabashed smile on his face, regarded her with unconcealed delight, almost admiration. As Cleo felt her cheeks reddening, she wondered what possible biological use there was for blushing.

  “Miss Cleo,” Aedan said. “You said you were travelling to the Misk’Imas Institution, but it seems that you are already quite educated. Are you a returning student, or have you been educated elsewhere?”

  Shit, this isn’t good. “Elsewhere. And I read a lot. But my education isn’t relevant to the encounter, or, I’m sure, something that Commander Magnus would be interested in.”

  “You’d be surprised what catches my interest, young lady,” Magnus said. “And I can speak for myself.”

  “I’m sorry, I just meant that it has been a long few days and I’m tired and hungry and would really, really like a hot bath.” After a week on the road and brief washes with only water and a rag, she smelled quite ripe.

  “Wouldn’t we all?” Magnus said wryly. “Aedan, if you’ve finished pestering the poor woman then I’ll let her go.”

  Aedan only nodded to the Commander, but Cleo could feel his eyes on her as she kept hers downcast.

  “Then, Miss Cleo, thank you for your assistance, and best of luck to you in your endeavors.”

  “And to you, Commander. And thank you for the snacks, I might have passed out, otherwise,” Cleo said with a smile.

  “You’re welcome. Usually no one partakes and they go stale. But I’m keeping you, and I have a lot to do. You did well to survive the being’s attack. You have my compliments for that.”

  Cleo lowered her head and kept her eyes on the floor. “Just lucky, I guess.”

  As Magnus turned to murmur to Dalvin, she nodded gratefully and made her way past Aedan and the researchers, and the officers. She made a bee line for the exit, aware of the footsteps of one of the officers following her as they made sure she actually left the building and didn’t get up to anything nefarious.

  Once outside, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief and wrapped her arms around her, gripping her shoulders with trembling hands. The sun was setting and there probably wasn’t time to visit any bookshops or the card shop before the remaining light fled. Cleo strode off in the direction of Rivett’s caravan. She’d spend the night there, and inquire when they would be scheduled to resume their journey. Perhaps she’d be able to finally bathe, and visit those shops.

  “Miss Cleo! Miss Cleo!”

  Shit… shit and frak.

  “We really must talk more,” Aedan said, hurrying up behind her.

  We really mustn’t. She glanced behind her to see the researcher and his two shadows close behind. “I’ve answered all your questions, and I really don’t feel like being interrogated further.”

  “I won’t interrogate you! Perish the thought! But you have intrigued me, Miss Cleo, and I believe further conversation would be mutually beneficial. You are obviously highly educated, and from what I’ve heard of the encounter with the being, you’re also highly competent. It’s rare I get to meet another researcher that—”

  “Stop,” Cleo snapped, as she herself came to an abrupt halt so that Aedan almost collided with her. She closed her eyes briefly and rubbed them with a thumb and forefinger.

  “Do me,” she said firmly, “the courtesy of not thinking that I’m an idiot, and be truthful. You’re not just a researcher.” She waved a hand at the two figures behind Aedan. “And these are not fellow researchers or whatever you call them. You’re on first name terms with Commander Magnus, and you were in his office before we arrived. You weren’t summoned there, that I can assume with some certainty since there wasn’t time. So you went of your own accord, knowing you’d get an audience with the Commander. So that makes you… what? An Imperial Officer in disguise? A spy? A noble slumming it with the commoners? Or something else?”

  Aedan looked abashed. “One of those, if you must know.”

  “Sir!” one of his shadows said in warning, and Aedan made a shushing gesture at him.

  A noble slumming it with the commoners rose to the top of her list. He seemed too honest and open to be in the Imperial Legion, or a spy. And while he did have a certain hardness to him, in bearing and his frame, it wasn’t the brutal solidity of a professional soldier.

  “What do you want?” Cleo said.

  “To talk. There’s something about you that intrigues me, that I can’t quite put my finger on.”

  “You won’t be putting any of your fingers on me, of that I can assure you! Talk about what?”

  “Scholarly things… er, research.”

  “Listen, Aedan, I’m tired and hungry, and I’d prefer to eat a hot meal and go to sleep. Rivett’s hopefully going to be leaving in the morning and—”

  “He isn’t.”

  “What?”

  “Rivett and his caravan won’t be leaving for a week or so. Magnus, I mean Commander Magnus, has ordered Ashenshore to be locked down for now. No one comes or goes without Imperial permission. And there’s something else bothering him, that I can’t talk about just yet. All carded are going to be ordered to report to the 13th Legion in two days’ time. There’s something brewing.”

  Cleo groaned in frustration. Great. This was just great. “What is brewing?”

  “I can’t say.”

  “You mean you won’t.”

  “Can’t, and won’t.”

  “At least you can hold your tongue when you want to.”

  Aedan snorted in amusement. “Let’s meet for breakfast tomorrow.”

  “I don’t think that’s—”

  “I’ll pay. There’s a café nearby Rivett’s caravan that bakes exquisite pastries and makes a spiced koko-mateh that—”

  “Sold. Come and collect me at Rivett’s, and then while we eat I’ll see if you have anything interesting to say. I need directions to some bookshops anyway.”

  “I know when to take my victories and retreat. Good evening, Miss Cleo. Get some food and rest, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  And with that, Aedan the probably–slumming–it–noble–but–probably–researcher left with his two minders or bodyguards in tow. I should find out what they are. There will be opportunity to do that tomorrow.

  By the time Cleo made her way back to Rivett’s caravan, the sun had truly set and the only light came from cooking fires and alchemical lanterns hung from the wagons.

  Kobie was already lying in his hammock, and she wasn’t going to disturb him until she saw light reflecting from his open eyes.

  “Trouble’s brewing,” Cleo said to the teamster.

  “Always is. Any details?”

  “The Legion has locked Ashenshore down, so we won’t be leaving for a week or more.”

  “That’s fine. I still get paid.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes. All carded are going to be rounded up in a couple of days. I don’t know the details, but the Legion must have something for us to do.”

  “Sounds likely.”

  “Frak!”

  “Language, young lady.”

  “Sorry, Kobie.”

  “Get some food into you, and get some sleep. Things always look better in the morning. Usually.”

  Cleo felt a shiver run through her. She doubted this was one of those times. But, at least tomorrow there would be koko and pastries. Something to look forward too in this land of undead, and dungeons, and prisoners in dungeons, and hideous beings that could portal, and slaughtered villages.

  All of a sudden Cleo felt as if a great weight pressed down upon her, and she almost staggered. The forced loneliness of being someone from another world and a legendary card holder was almost too much. Everything was still strange and awkward, and carrying possibly world altering secrets around was a responsibility she hadn’t asked for. The burden wore on her constantly, as if it was a heavy weight she could never put down. Right now, when everything had gone wrong and her fate was in the hands of the Imperial Legion, the beckoning safety of the Misk’Imas Institution felt almost unattainable.

  She felt in her heart that she needed someone she could confide in, that she could trust, but knew that was also a bad idea. Was that to be her fate? To be forever alone?

  One step at a time. Survive this, then learn and progress.