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Rise of the Archon- Book 2, Chapter 26
🕑 Added 2024-11-09 14:12:10 +0000 UTCI reached the meeting place mentioned in the letter within fifteen minutes. It was a wide deck suspended two stories into the air, with a bar on the opposite side of the stairs and a half-dozen servers weaving through the crowd. Vines with glowing flowers of reds and blues crawled up latticeworks along the sides, and twisting ribbons arced overhead, their surfaces covered in tiny markings that caught the sunset light.
At least thirty people, a few commoners but mostly nobles close to my age, filled the platform. A handful sat at the sparse, round tables while the rest stood and spoke with one another, plucking drinks and snacks from the trays of passing servers. It was the sort of place I would never visit if I had the choice, filled with a sense of wealth and arrogance.
I scanned the crowd, wondering which of the half-drunk patrons had summoned me like a trained dog. No one jumped out at first glance, though I caught a few curious looks directed toward me, and at least one seemed to recognize me judging by their glare. As I was about to turn around, assuming the sender had left already, a woman near the platform's edge raised her glass toward me.
She was red-headed and thin, with a coy smile visible even at a distance. I caught a hint of her mana on the air, Fog-tier and hard as stone, and her clothes spoke of function and form in equal parts. My opinion of her rose with my wariness as I wove through the crowd.
"Fantastic, you made it," she said as I came within earshot.
I nodded, "Apologies for keeping you waiting. It has been quite the busy day."
"I can imagine," she replied, her smile growing, "Duels upon duels, if the rumors are to be believed. Drinks?"
She waved a hand to one side, and a server appeared as if by magic. He held out a tray of towering, curved glasses filled with something crimson, and I hesitated before accepting one. It would be polite if nothing else, and I took a tiny sip, noting the sour yet sweet flavor with a burning aftertaste.
"Not bad," I remarked, and the woman smiled as she replaced her empty drink on the tray and took a fresh glass for herself.
I had not noticed at a distance, but she was attractive. Pale skin and slim, pretty features that looked two, maybe three years older than me. Her eyes were pale, icy blue, which lent a piercing look to her gaze, and her mouth was pressed into a thin, sharp smile. She stood taller than me by a half-inch or so, though she offset it with an almost casual leaning as she reclined against the railing behind her.
"You know my name," I said after a few seconds, "But I do not know yours."
"No, you don't," she agreed, "My name is Vivienne. Vivienne Thibault."
The name was unfamiliar, which suggested she was either not a noble or not from a prominent family. She could still be dangerous, and this could still be some veiled threat or a trap, but at least she would not likely have the backing of a truly powerful mage.
"Pleased to meet you, Vivienne," I said, mimicking Leon's confident smile as best I could.
She matched my smile, "Likewise. Now, we have our drinks, and we've gotten the formalities out of the way. Why don't we get to business?"
That would be best, yes, but openly agreeing felt rude. Still, I did not mind seeming rude when the need struck. Girem would say it was preferable to appearing a pushover, and I tended to agree.
So, I nodded, "Gladly. For starters, why did you summon me here? We did not know each other until two minutes ago."
"Ah, but I knew you," Vivienne corrected, "You've gained quite the reputation in Colkirk. The stories claim you're an upstart commoner who abandoned his training, nearly killed Sion's scion, and left his lord's beloved daughter pregnant with an illegitimate child. Then, you arrive here and make a name for yourself, besting half the young nobility in duels while fighting more like a common soldier than a mage. Impressive."
"Stories are not always accurate, as I am sure you understand," I replied, not bothering to confirm or deny any part in particular.
"Of course, but they often contain a hint of truth. And all seem to have a few common elements. You're arrogant, though you probably consider yourself confident. You're ambitious, though I suspect you'd call it driven. And you're desperate, both for gold and for allies, something I'm not even sure you fully grasp yet."
I tilted my head to one side and frowned, "Desperate? What makes you say that?"
"Common sense, mostly," Vivienne replied, taking a sip of her drink and continuing, "You fought those first couple of duels for honor and glory, but it didn't take long to start wagering gold. Not much at first, but more with each victory. And we both know you've lost your backing from people like Duke Estton and the Academy. By my count, your only real friends are the disowned son of a noble and a cat."
It took me a second to connect the "son of a noble" and Wallace. I stored away that piece of information, deciding to broach the topic with him later, and focused on the heart of her words.
"Am I to assume you are offering, what, friendship?"
"Maybe, but mostly, I am offering an opportunity."
"What kind of opportunity?"
Vivienne reached into a pouch hanging on her hip as she replied, "To impress me, of course."
I opened my mouth to reply, suspicion cresting like a wave, but she pulled out her hand before I could speak.
"This," Vivienne said, holding out her hand towards me, "Is that opportunity."
She held a wooden cube in her hand, dark and about the size of an apple. I glanced down at it, then returned my eyes to hers.
"And what is that?"
"A puzzle box, of course."
"I can tell," I replied, "But I fail to see what about a puzzle is an opportunity. They are toys and not much else."
"Oh? Are you sure about that?"
I was already tired of her dancing around the point, and injected some heat into my voice as I replied, "You seem to prefer avoiding direct questions. Regardless of what you might think of me, I value my time. So, I would prefer we speak plainly."
Her smile remained playful, "Now, where is the fun in that? Half the joy is in the chase, wouldn't you agree?"
"No."
She held one hand to her chest in mock horror, which melted away as she waggled the cube, "Very well. This is a magical puzzle. Solving it requires certain talents which are rare and hard to come by, even amongst mages."
I could follow her implications, "And you think I have those talents?"
"I'd like to find out," Vivienne agreed, "And if you do...well, let's just say I have some further opportunities available, provided you impress me."
I did not trust it for a second. The entire thing was too convenient and entirely at odds with what my reputation should elicit from nobles. I would expect ridicule, mocking, veiled threats, and implications to leave Colkirk, yet this woman offered me a possible alliance. It felt too close a trap for my tastes.
But if this was genuine, could I afford to turn it down? I was not arrogant enough to presume I could never work with nobles again and had plans to do so in a few years. If I could do so now, it might be worth the risk.
Vivienne caught my hesitation, smiling as she continued, "I respect the caution. You understand how dangerous unknown things can be, and I am an unknown. However, we can change that."
"As long as I pass your test?" I countered.
She smiled but did not respond.
"What if I did?" I pressed, "Pass, I mean."
Vivienne twisted the cube in her fingers, "You might not enjoy the chase, but I do. Why don't you puzzle over that as well?"
She placed the cube on the nearby railing, "I'll give you three days. Meet me here at sunset with the solved cube then."
Vivienne flashed me one final smile before slipping into the crowd, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the cube.
***
In the end, I could not help myself.
Vivienne's test was a puzzle typically given to inquisitive children rather than mages. It was a six-sided cube made of dark wood, with thin lines where various sections would slide apart, revealing an internal compartment. By applying pressure to the right places, they would slide open and reveal a hidden compartment where parents might store sweets or copper coins.
I had seen several before, but they were usually cheap and decorated with painted designs or simple, repetitive carvings. This was unlike those non-magical variants.
This version had no such decorations. It was made of dark, varnished wood with multiple runes covering each face. The runes had a bronze filling, and I could sense hard, firm mana that reminded me of dirt and rock flowing from each symbol. I could not recognize any at first glance, but the effects were simple enough to puzzle out.
Each rune seemed to anchor the sliding faces to one another, holding them in place with "bars" of mana. I could sense the firmness in each, and a few cursory tests suggested that tugging them apart would require greater physical strength than I could muster, even with magical enhancement.
After realizing this, it took me less than an hour to figure out the next step. It seemed simple enough and required pushing a thimble of mana into these "bars" and breaking them apart, allowing the pieces to move freely. In practice, it took me far longer than it might suggest, as I had to work slowly to avoid damaging the wood or the runes.
Somehow, destroying the entire cube did not seem like much of a "success" in my eyes.
It took me at least five minutes to wear down and break apart the first lock. I sensed it fall apart and felt the cube's facade shift, loosening just a hair. Then, the real challenge revealed itself.
Even as that first rune dimmed and weakened, I felt other, nearby ones flare to life. Mana flowed from them, thin rivers of earthen power which slipped into the first. They bolstered the flagging strength of the enchantment, repairing it within my mind's eye.
No, I realized. Not repairing. Restoring.
"Hmm...," I murmured, turning the cube over. "Well, how about that?"
I examined it for a few seconds and confirmed that the first lock once more bound the cube tightly. Then, I tried again. I managed to break it in almost half the time and once more felt as mana flowed from neighboring runes in that strange, reinforcing effect.
After an hour and at least a dozen subsequent attempts, I leaned back in my chair and looked the cube over in my hand for the hundredth time.
Breaking any one of the locks was dirt simple. Master Julian had shown us similar magic long ago in my Espionage class, and the concept was transferable enough that I could crack them within a minute or two. But the problem lay in the other secondary enchantments.
The restorative effect worked too fast. I had gotten quick enough to get partway through a second lock before the first had finished repairing itself, but it was a close thing. The whole cube had twenty locking runes, and I suspected I would need to crack all of them at once to break the spell.
If I had weeks, I could do it. Each subsequent attempt shaved a second or two off, and I saw no reason why my speed would not continue to increase. But I did not have weeks.
I would have to find another way.
The logical solution would be targeting the restorative enchantment, yet therein lies another problem. I could not figure out how it worked. Sure, I could sense the streams of mana flowing from one rune to the next, and I could hypothesize how it functioned, but the connections felt like a mess of threads weaving from one to another.
As the sun started to peek through the nearby window, I stared at the cube. And for all my best efforts, no solution appeared.
