CLEO – Ashenshore

  The koko-mateh was hot and spiced with cinnamon and, unless Cleo missed her guess, something similar to cardamom; the pastry she’d just taken a bite out of was flaky and buttery, and filled with a sweet almond paste; and a waitress had just placed a heaped bowl of berries topped with yoghurt in front of her.

  If this was what meeting up to discuss ‘scholarly research’ was like, she could easily get used to it.

  In the morning light, Aedan looked younger than he had before, and even though he sat across a table from her, his height and bulk made her feel small. Maybe she could find a card that made her grow taller? Nah, she was quite happy the way she was—apart from the lupus.

  Cleo had taken another half a lozenge when she’d woken, and though the pain in her body had receded, it hadn’t fully disappeared.

  Aedan also had a mug of koko, and a large plate of sausages and eggs with slices of bread on the side. She looked at his breakfast, and then back at hers. He’d ordered for them both, and she felt somewhat insulted that he’d assumed she would prefer something sweet and ladylike. He’d already finished half his plate, even though he wasn’t rushing.

  At least he’d left his bodyguards behind for their breakfast meeting, so it was just the two of them. Cleo surreptitiously glanced around, half expecting them to be hiding nearby, but she saw no sign of the unnerving pair. Their absence put Cleo at ease, but perhaps that was the intention? She would have to be on her guard and not let anything slip, as Aedan was obviously intelligent and, if he was a noble, would have been educated and trained by the best tutors money could buy.

  Up close, she noticed that Aedan’s hard-wearing travel clothes were of a finer quality than hers: the cloth was a closer weave, the stitching finer and doubled. Though there was a patch on one elbow and another on his thigh, she guessed they hadn’t actually been required and were part of his act—or effort to blend in. Disguise was too strong a word, she felt, as he was educated and possibly a legitimate researcher. On the table, beside his plate and mug, lay a flat leather folder, which looked designed to hold research notes.

  But his sword though… to Cleo it looked functional but also refined—the crossguard curved slightly towards the blade tip, and was covered with runes inlaid with a reddish metal that reminded her of… surely that wasn’t orichalcum? And she could sense something from the sword, a periodic swirling of mana she couldn’t discern the purpose of.

  On top of this was the incongruity between the man’s behavior and appearance. He spoke like a scholar, but looked like an adventurer, albeit a young one. All in all, Aedan was a mess of contradictions, and she couldn’t decide what his deal was or why he was in the Gravelands.

  She didn’t like her chances of getting a straight answer, but maybe she could just… ask?

  She finished her mouthful of almondy pastry and took a sip of her koko. She wiped her fingers on the cloth napkin provided and met Aedan’s eyes as he stared at her with what seemed to be a challenge crossed with amusement.

  She found herself blushing slightly and enjoying his stare. He was easy to look at… Stop it, Cleo.

  She didn’t find anything funny about their situation, but perhaps Aedan was coping with the turn of events in his own way.

  Well, here goes nothing… “Which noble family are you associated with?”

  Aedan coughed and narrowed his eyes at Cleo. “I… what gave me away?”

  “Your disguise could use some work. Your clothes are too high-quality, as is your sword. Not to mention being on a first-name basis with Commander Magnus. Should I go on?”

  Aedan waved a hand and then took a long swallow of his own koko. “Please don’t mention this to anyone. I’m trying to keep a low profile.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  Aedan grinned. “I didn’t. You’re not only quick, but your bluntness is refreshing.”

  “Still haven’t answered.”

  “All right… I’m of the Imperial family.”

  “You're related to the Empress?”

  “May she live forever. Yes, distantly.”

  “How distant?” Cleo ate the rest of her pastry and brought the berries and yoghurt closer.

  “As distant as it gets. Of the eleven Great Houses, House Empress is the most influential, obviously. And though it’s difficult to calculate the wealth the myriad houses have accrued, we’re probably in the top three.”

  Cleo frowned. “How is it that House Empress isn’t the richest? That seems incongruous.”

  “The Empress places little value on wealth, other than as a means to aid in protecting and expanding the Empire. But Imperial taxes carry most of the weight there. Mixing our House’s finances with the Empire’s would be a recipe for disaster.”

  She could well imagine how angry the other houses would be if House Empress started taking Imperial income for itself. “Rebellion?”

  “There have been a few, but the Empire takes care of everyone, or at least tries to, so the rebellions’ causes were not rooted in poverty or discontent. There are always people who want more power for themselves, who think they deserve more. Some people just think that they’re… better than everyone else.”

  If there were no poverty or discontent in the Empire, Cleo would be very surprised. Aedan’s explanation sounded like a sanitized version of the truth. But until she knew more, she wasn’t in a position to form an opinion or judge.

  “You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve traveled a long way. There are eleven ‘great’ noble houses, and how many are not great?”

  “Very droll. How far have you journeyed?”

  “A long way.”

  “If our conversation continues like this, neither of us will learn much.”

  “Then maybe we should set some rules, since you’ve avoided answering as well.”

  Aedan nodded and used a crust of bread to wipe egg yolk from his plate. “What do you propose?”

  “No lying, and we take turns asking a question.” Cleo didn’t think Aedan would feel any remorse about breaking their verbal deal by lying when it suited him, but then, neither would she.

  “A question for a question, or more accurately an answer for an answer… I like it! I’ll go first.”

  “No, I will. Something easy to start with: What are the top five Great Houses?” Cleo took another bite of her pastry, and then gawked at a nearby table when what looked like a cinnamon and sugar covered scroll was placed in front of a lady in a pale-green sun-dress, who… was that one of Aedan’s bodyguards? She tried to picture the woman of the pair, if she ditched her dark clothes and leather coat, and didn’t glare at Cleo… it was quite possibly her, though the woman cut daintily into her cinnamon scroll and ate a small bite, and perused a printed newssheet, ignoring everything around her.

  “Are you listening?” Aedan said.

  “Sorry, I was distracted for a moment. What were you saying?”

  “There is House Empress, of course,” Aedan ticked the houses off on the fingers of one hand, “House Wolfenler, House Ravenler, House Sirenler, and House Drakonler.”

  Thanks to her gift of languages, Cleo knew ‘ler’ meant family in… she had no idea which language, but it was safe to assume it was High Imperial, which Mau had mentioned the last time she’d seen the cat.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Two animals and two mythical creatures, Cleo assumed. “What’s a drakon?”

  Aedan tilted his head and frowned. “You don’t know? Wait, isn’t it my turn for a question?”

  Cleo ground her teeth, but nodded. “Never mind, then. It’s something I can find out myself with a little research.”

  “It’s good to see you can keep your word.”

  “Are you substituting your question for an observation?”

  “No,” Aedan smirked. “I’ll repeat my earlier question to start with. How far have you journeyed?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know. A long, long way. I hadn’t heard of the Empire or the Empress until recently.”

  “That’s not really an answer.”

  “It’s the best I’ve got. I really don’t know.”

  “Huh… what are you looking for? You must have a—”

  “Not so fast. My turn. What are dungeons, and what’s the difference between the large ones and the smaller?”

  “That’s two questions.”

  “It’s common knowledge, at least to most carded.”

  “A fair point. I’ll allow it this once. There’s still conjecture and speculation and theories, but we think dungeons are breaches—tears in the reality of this world, where monsters continuously manifest, or ‘pour through’ as my old tutor once said. Both small and large dungeons are classified as permanent breaches, the only difference between them being their size and what tier the monsters are.”

  “So they’re not—” Cleo broke off and let out a frustrated sigh. One question at a time was going to get annoying fast.

  “My turn. Where were you educated?” Aedan asked. “Wait! I’ll change my question to ‘what subjects have you been educated in’?”

  Cleo saw no reason to bend the truth about Earth and the education system in her country, so she decided to give Aedan more than he’d asked for. “Where I grew up, the government funded schooling for everyone. From the age of five or six, both boys and girls went to school and were expected to continue their education for around twelve years.”

  “Really? That’s amazing. I wish we could do something similar here. So, in what subjects did you excel? Sorry, you go ahead.”

  The usual schooling Cleo had experienced, although standard where she was from, was obviously unusual here. That didn’t make her more intelligent, but it did mean she was better educated than most people in the Empire—especially when it came to science and math, her two best subjects. Math… why did that jog her memory… she needed to do something… oh, of course.

  “I did well in science and math.”

  “Math? What’s that? Is it short for mathematics? I assume it is.”

  “Yes. It’s… arithmetic, equations, geometry, stuff like that. Which reminds me, do you have a piece of paper and something to write with?”

  “That’s your question?”

  “Yes.”

  Aedan frowned and gave her a weird look, as if he couldn’t figure her out.

  “I do…”

  He opened his flat leather folder and extracted a sheet of cream-colored paper, and a wooden pen with a metal nib. He handed them over to Cleo, and she examined both. The paper was rougher than she was used to, but it could be high quality here and she’d never know. The pen was interesting, so she brought the nib closer, holding it up to the light.

  “It’s an ingenious invention,” Aedan said. “There’s a reservoir of ink inside the wooden part, and you’ll never guess what’s in the tip of the nib.”

  “A tiny metal ball?”

  Aedan’s mouth dropped open. “Why, yes, as a matter of fact. How did… never mind. I assume you’ve seen one before?”

  “Something similar, yes. Where I’m from we call them ballpoint pens.”

  “Ballpoint… that makes sense, but then you’d be telling everyone the secret.”

  “It was probably a marketing strategy. You know, to make the technology easy for everyone to understand, so it wasn’t strange. People are wary of strange things.”

  “Hmm, indeed. My next question is—”

  “You already asked yours, you said, ‘I assume you’ve seen one before?’, correct?”

  “I… all right, I’ll let you get away with it just this once.”

  Cleo let Aedan stew while she thought back to the times her mana pool had been tested. She wrote seven-hundred and twenty, which was the size of her mana pool in thaums when Rosalia had used the testing crystal on her. Below that, she wrote three-hundred and twenty-six, which was her mana measured at the Adventurers’ Guild, when she had been reserving 60% of her mana pool for her auras—and that was with 10% mana efficiency. So next to that she wrote both 60% and ‘Res’, for reservation, and 10% and ‘Eff’, for efficiency. There had to be a numerical equation that she could use to figure out how much her auras reserved, and how much mana she’d have left. She just wasn’t sure that she’d be able to figure it out with only these two data points. Maybe she should get tested again, but only reserve one of her auras? That way, she’d have another data point and—

  “What are you doing?” Aedan asked.

  “Is that your question?”

  “No.”

  “It’s my turn, anyway.”

  Cleo ignored the researcher’s annoyed scowl and blew on the ink to dry it. She folded the paper into quarters, slipped it into a pocket, and handed the pen back to Aedan. She ate a spoonful of the berries and yoghurt as she considered her options. If Rosalia had her own testing crystal, then it stood to reason that other mages would as well. And that meant they were readily available. She added obtaining a mana-measuring crystal to her ever-growing list and considered what to ask for her next question. There was so much she didn’t know, and she also didn’t know what she should know but didn’t. Well, there was no time like the present.

  “What’s a Dominion?”

  Before Cleo could react, Aedan was half out of his chair, and he’d turned as pale as a ghost. Across from them, the bodyguard in disguise had produced a knife and stared at Cleo as if she was about to gut her.

  Cleo held up both hands in surrender, realizing that something was terribly wrong and that she’d overstepped a boundary she hadn’t known existed.

  “She’s from another house, or a stooge!” hissed the bodyguard, though the words sounded strange to Cleo, and she realized they must have been translated by her gift.

  Aedan waved the bodyguard away, and the woman resumed her seat, still glaring at Cleo. She kept the knife in her hand, but under the table where no one else could see it.

  Aedan looked as if he was deciding whether to leave or not. One hand fumbled with his leather folder, while the other picked up his mug and he drank the rest of his koko in a few gulps.

  He eyed Cleo, glanced at his bodyguard, and then resumed his seat.

  “Don’t use that word again if you value your life. Where did you hear it?”

  Cleo swallowed nervously. She wanted to remain on Aedan’s good side and keep a low profile, but it seemed that she’d put her foot in it. Again.

  “I read it.”

  Technically, true. She had read it on her Legend card.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “It’s true!”

  “Did one of the other Houses send you to entrap me?”

  “What? No!”

  “Then why would you ask such a question?”

  “I didn’t know that it was a sensitive topic!” Cleo had suspected though, but she hadn’t thought Aedan’s reaction would be so extreme. “What’s the problem?”

  “If you don’t know, then it’s best if I don’t explain it.”

  “That doesn’t make sense!”

  Aedan shook his head, and the bodyguard gave him a warning glare.

  “Leave here, Aedan, and I’ll kill her,” the woman said softly. “I’ll take her skill cards so it looks like a robbery.”

  Cleo activated her Energy Shield and Regeneration auras, and readied her curse. Maybe she could fend them both off long enough until help arrived.

  “Don’t kill me,” she said. “And you’re not getting my cards if I have anything to say about it.”

  The bodyguard’s eyes widened in shock, as did Aedan’s. He held up a hand to the woman to stop her moving or saying anything, then stared at Cleo for a long moment before sitting back down. She noted that he still kept a hand on the hilt of his sword.

  “You understood what she said,” Aedan said. “To kill you and take your cards.”

  “Yes.” Uh oh…

  “She spoke in High Imperial.”

  Bluff, Cleo, bluff! “I know.”

  “Where did you learn to speak it?”

  “Is that your question?”

  “Enough, Cleo! Now isn’t the time for games. You might have put us both in danger. People you definitely don’t want to draw the attention of might already have caught wind of your forbidden knowledge.”

  Cleo sighed, leaning back and taking a mouthful of koko. “I have a gift for languages,” she said slowly, trying to form a believable lie on the fly. “They come easily to me, and I overheard a few nobles talking in Ankratur while I was having dinner at a fancy restaurant.”

  “If you learned High Imperial that easily, then you have a card for languages?”

  “Yes,” Cleo lied.

  “Huh. That’s rare, but not unknown. And it’s either that or you’re a noble yourself, from a minor house since I don’t recognize you, sent here to spy on or assassinate me.”

  “I’d make a very poor assassin.”

  “That’s what a good assassin would say. So you’re a spy?”

  “No!”

  “Where did you read about… that word? Did you mention it to entrap me?”

  “This is beginning to feel like an interrogation.”

  “It is.”

  “Entrap you in what? I read it in a book.”

  “Oh, Mother Mercy preserve me! Enough of this. We shouldn’t speak of this ever again. If anyone asks, I’ll deny all knowledge.”

  Mother Mercy? A goddess? “Knowledge of what? I don’t know anything.”

  Aedan leaned forward and whispered. “Of sorcery, you idiot!”

  Sorcery! Dominions were related to this unknown sorcery magic, whatever it was? Hang on, did Aedan just… “Don’t call me an idiot!”

  “Well, you are! You’re like a child playing with a sharp knife. If you value your life, then you’ll forget you ever heard of… of that word. And forget this conversation happened.”

  Cleo clenched her jaw so hard her teeth ached. Finally, she’d found someone with answers, and he refused to speak to her. She thought of trying to bribe him, but quickly discarded the idea. He was a noble, so probably already rich, and the only thing he’d value from her was knowledge about where she came from and her Legendary card, which she wasn’t going to give him. She’d have to play this cool and work her way into his confidence if she could. He was intelligent and amusing, and handsome, so it wouldn’t be an onerous task to…

  As if he’d want you, with your lupus.

  Cleo tried to banish the disparaging thought before it fully formed, but her eyes burned, and before she knew it, tears spilled down her face. She grabbed her napkin and wiped her face and eyes as she grew hot with shame and embarrassment.

  “I’m sorry, Cleo,” Aedan said. “But it’s best if you forget about this. The knowledge is held close, and—”

  “I’m not crying about that!”

  Cleo dabbed her eyes again and stood, trembling, unsure of what to do. She sniffed as something attempted to drip out of her nose. She quickly wiped it away and made sure it wasn’t blood, since she was prone to nosebleeds.

  A puzzled frown crossed Aedan’s face. “Then what is it? Did I say something—”

  “It’s not about you,” Cleo said flatly. “It’s something I have to deal with.” She took a deep breath. “Well, are you going to kill me, or can I go?”

  “I have more questions.”

  “Another time. I’m going now.”

  Cleo glanced at the bodyguard, but the woman didn’t move to intercept her. With quickening steps, she hurried out of the cafe, resolving somehow to reconcile herself to her pain and endless loneliness.