In Old City, the wealthiest area was the canal district. Once the home of aristocratic power, migration to the Island left it open for those who ruled Old City with money and power. It was strictly neutral territory for the Big Three, due to a preponderance of Island interests based around the canals and water trade flowing in from the delta.
In a less-used area of the canal docks were a cluster of buildings, not well-placed and too small to service the water traffic that had built up in the years since their construction. Mostly the buildings were used to store items that were rarely, if ever used. One housed small watercraft awaiting repairs that never came, the cluttered space untouched for years, or so it seemed.
Sophie had judiciously placed some of the clutter and quietly moved the rest to the other buildings. Add in some rituals by Belinda to muffle noise and display some simple, static illusions and the seemingly abandoned building had become a well-hidden lair. Belinda quietly made her way inside, where Sophie was already waiting.
“The last item on our shopping list just came up,” Belinda said without preamble. “We need to move fast, though.”
“Good,” Sophie said. “It was getting about time to do another distraction job, or Ventress would call open season on us.”
“Now we don’t have to,” Belinda said. “Once we have the tilting stones, we’ll have everything we need for the last job.”
“And we'll finally get out of the city,” Sophie said, shoulders slumping wearily.
“How’s the preparation for that?”
“I’ve got maps and supplies enough to get us through the delta, into the Veldt and then south to Hornis,” Sophie said. “After hitting the spirit coin vault we’ll have enough money to buy our way past any influence the Big Three have there and leave this whole continent behind.”
“Let’s not go making assumptions until we’re on open ocean,” Belinda cautioned. “We have two jobs and a long journey between us and there. We have to move fast on this next one.”
“Tell me.”
“There's some big project out in the delta, some ancient ruin or something. The Magic Society was crawling all over it, until some out-of-towners showed up and took over.”
“Out-of-towners?”
“They arrived on a ship made of clouds, If you can believe that.”
“A ship made of clouds?”
“Sounds incredible, right?”
“Sounds made up.”
“Nope,” Belinda said. “The ship turned into a cloud palace and is floating off the north end of the Island. I’ve seen it for myself. It's so big you can spot it from any rooftop on the north side of the city.”
“Please tell me you don’t want us to rob it.”
“No,” Belinda said with a laugh. “That ruin they’re excavating; it was originally a Magic Society project, but these people took over.”
“That’s some serious clout.”
“Yes, it is. The important part is that the Magic Society is still providing supplies and support. One of the things on the supply list is the tilting stones we need. I’ll be getting a head’s up when they’re scheduled to move, but it’ll be sometime this week. We grab the stones during transit.”
“That’s not a lot of time to prepare,” Sophie said.
“We shouldn’t need it. The supply shipments move out from the supply complex at the Magic Society campus with minimal protection. The shipment isn’t high-value, so they a heavy guard until the Duke’s guards meet them at the bridge to Old City.”
“If it’s not high-value, then couldn’t we just have bought these tilting stones we need?”
“They’re restricted,” Belinda explained. “Not dangerous, but they have some specific uses in certain activities.”
“Like the one we want them for?”
“Exactly.”
“So we hit it on the island,” Sophie said.
“Exactly. All the supplies will be in dimensional-storage crates. You just need to grab the right crate and get out.”
“You have the route?”
“Yeah.”
“Alright, then,” Sophie said. “Let’s go scout some locations.”
One of the largest and busiest areas of the Magic Society Campus was the magical supply complex. In addition to the space requirements, operations were complicated by the sometimes volatile nature of magical materials. Care had to be taken to store various goods correctly while keeping apart materials that would affect one another in proximity. This caused a number of fundamental problems for the smooth running of the supply complex.
The first problem was structural. Purpose-designed, the complex was a nest of interconnected buildings, linked by secured walkways at ground level and above. There were warehouse structures, towers, domes, and in one case, a spherical building secured by a cubic frame of support struts.
Storage and record-keeping were even more of a mess. Because of the nature of the stored materials, magical requirements took precedence over the practical requirements of space efficiency. This, in turn, made inventory management and supply a nightmare.
In the central loading and distribution centre, the supply manager was named Thel and the distribution manager, Drew. They were having several busy weeks at a run. First, the Magic Society started up some operation out in the middle of a swamp, which was already a logistical nightmare. Then the whole thing was taken over by some out-of-town group. The Society was still giving logistical support and supply, which meant meeting the different needs of the new group while adding a whole extra layer to supply management because they weren’t Magic Society. Amid a busy day, Thel brought out a new supply order to give to Drew.
“This just came in from the big building,” she told Drew. The big building was what they called central administration, out of which the Magic Society officials operated.
“Great,” Drew said as he unenthusiastically took the paper with the supply order and started reading it over. “One more idiot who doesn’t think twice about messing up our schedules.”
He glanced at the authorising officer box on the order to see who dumped it on him.
“Adjunct Assistant to the Deputy Director of the Magic Society, Greenstone branch,” he read. “What it the gods’ names does that mean?”
“Sounds like a position that was made up for some rich prick’s useless kid,” Thel said.
“Doesn’t it just.”
“This one’s a little odd,” Thel said, gesturing at the order. “The guy who delivered the order said he was told to be very clear it was a low-priority order.”
“Low priority?”
“That’s right. He said he was given specific instructions that we don’t break schedule and just fit it in when we can. He just wants us to let him know when it’s going out.”
“That’s weird, right?” Drew asked.
“Very weird. I’ve seen plenty of demands from the high-ups to rush an order, but being told to take our time is a first.”
“Sounds shady,” Drew said. “Since when did you see anyone with authority show any consideration or decency?”
“Never,” Thel said. “Think we should look into it?”
“Gods, no. The order isn’t a do-up, is it?”
“No, the order’s for real.”
“Then it’s not our problem. We get the piece of paper and we do what it says. Anything more than that is someone else’s problem.”
Jason and Clive were walking through Old City, in the direction of Jory’s clinic.
“Are you sure just organising the shipment was enough?” Clive asked. “Maybe I should have leaked some more information.”
“No,” Jason said. “This thief clearly has solid information sources. If she kept hearing about this shipment from too many places, she’d get spooked and not take the bait. As long as you made sure the shipment won’t move out until they’ve had time to hear about it. You are sure this is what she needs, right? These tilting stones?”
“Jason, I’m one of the few people with a complete understanding of the security measures around the city’s spirit coin vault. Once we scratched the distraction items off our list, everything she’s stolen as part of this spree can be used to circumvent one of the security measures. Bronze-rank sopor gas for the guards, sump coil rods for the alarm matrix, dodec crystals for the vault door…”
“The magic D12s,” Jason said. “They’re my favourite.”
“I don’t know how this thief got such a complete rundown of the security, but looking at what she’s been stealing, she clearly has it.”
“And you’re worried she won’t find out about the shipment?”
“That’s a good point.”
“You just have to swap us out for the regular drivers at the very last minute so she doesn’t catch wind.”
They went in through the new self-opening glass doors of the clinic.
“Nice,” Clive said, looking them over as they went through. “That’s some clean, simple magic.”
“They were my suggestion,” Jason said.
They walked up to the receptionist.
“Morning, Janice,” Jason greeted her. “Can he spare a minute?”
“For you, Mr Asano? Always. Things have been a lot more manageable since the initial rush, and having a healing priest here full-time really makes things easier. We miss having you around, though. You’re always off having exciting adventures, these days. I’m surprised you aren’t on that big expedition everyone was talking about.”
“They need someone to keep things running while everyone else is gallivanting about,” Jason said. “You haven’t met Clive, yet, Have you?”
They chatted, waiting for Jory, but a different person emerged instead. It was a runic, with the dark skin and glowing runes typical of his people.
“Mr Lange,” Janice greeted and made introductions. Donal Lange was the priest of the Healer assigned to Jory's clinic for the moment. He had arrived in Greenstone through a portal created by the Healer to help replace the excommunicated clergy.
“Jory has good things to say about you, Mr Asano. Confusing and contradictory at times, but with much praise. Healing people for nothing is a fine calling, although I may be biased in that opinion.”
“Don’t go praising me too much,” Jason said. “It was an easy way to train my cleansing power, so it wasn’t exactly selfless.”
“Jason!” Jory said, entering the waiting room. “Come on back.”
Jason and Clive shook hands with Donal, then followed Jory. In one of the back rooms, Jason quickly got to the point.
“I need something that can change our faces and something that can mask our auras. Knock it down to normal rank, if possible.”
Jory rubbed his chin, thoughtfully.
“Changing your face is easy enough,” he said. “Frankly, I’m surprised it took you this long to ask.”
“What’s wrong with my face?”
“I've had some reports that the face-changing ointment is a bit unreliable,” Jory said, ignoring Jason's question. “Moving your face reduces the effective duration, so try not to talk and keep your expression blank as much as you can.”
“That should be fine,” Clive said, Jason nodding agreement.
“Changing your aura is trickier,” Jory said. “If you just wanted to mask it at your own rank, that would be one thing. I could give you something for that now. Dropping it down a rank is another matter. This is for a contract?”
“It is,” Jason said. “Clive and I have been working this one for a little while.”
“I heard you’re a big, three-star adventurer now,” Jory said. “How did you swing that?”
“With your watering can and a little discretion,” Jason said, causing Jory to laugh.
“That makes sense,” he said. “They must have been so startled to see discretion from you that they handed over the star from sheer startlement.”
Clive burst out laughing.
“I’m starting to feel put upon,” Jason said. “Can you help with the aura?”
“I think I can make up what you need,” Jory said. “It’ll be precarious though. How’s your aura control?”
“It’s coming along,” Jason said.
“It’ll have to be. If you can’t keep it suppressed, it’ll breach the aura mask. So will using any essence abilities.”
“That’s fine,” Jason said. “It’s just an extra precaution that Clive suggested.”
“Our quarry is cautious and resourceful,” Clive said.
“Probably best not to share any unnecessary details,” Jason said to Clive.
“He’s right,” Jory said. “I can’t spill porridge that’s not in my bowl. I can have that for you tomorrow, or tonight if you’re really in a rush.”
“Tomorrow is fine,” Clive said.
“We’ll let you get back to it,” Jason said. “How are those church of the Healer people working out?”
“Fantastic,” Jory said. “Mostly it’s been Donal, and he’s terrific. It’s like having you on full-time, without the ominous overtones. Oh, before you go; Jensen loved that barbeque you had. It drummed him up a whole lot of business. He wanted me to ask you if you had any interest in doing it on the regular. Your connections, his booze.”
“Jenson?” Clive asked. “Was he the guy running the bar?”
“That’s right,” Jory said. “He has a distillery a couple of streets over.”
“It’s not a terrible idea,” Jason said. “I’m a little busy just right now, but tell him I’m interested.”
A wagon was making its way through the streets of the Island. It had no animals pulling it, being driven by magic. There was a driver, plus another man next to him on the driver’s bench. In the early afternoon, there were people out and about. It remained uncrowded, though, with the wide streets and generous footpaths. The men on the wagon didn't even glance as it rolled past a young woman with short hair, wearing a light jacket over a dress decorated with dark flowers.
After the wagon passed her by, Belinda opened her jacket to look at the crystal plate sewn into it. It showed the aura of the wagon’s dimensional-storage crates and the normal-rank auras of the two men riding it. She took a small tube from her jacket pocket, holding it vertically as she peeled a paper cap off the top. She felt a blast of heat and air, but the magical flare would be invisible and silent to anyone without a special viewing item or certain essence abilities.
Another of the Island’s streets had a row of trees planted down the middle of the two-lane thoroughfare. Sophie had been hidden in the upper branches of one of the trees since before dawn. She was dressed in shades of dark green to blend into the foliage. The clothing was the ideal balance of fitted and loose to provide optimum mobility, but their protective value suffered somewhat.
When she saw the flare rise into the sky, Sophie took off the spectacles that allowed her to see it and put them in a case which she returned to a pocket. Shortly after, a wagon passed under the branch she was perched on and she dropped down behind it, barely making a sound as she landed in a crouch on the street. She moved swiftly, clambering over the back of the covered wagon. It was filled with metal crates, just as promised, and she quickly found the one with the markings she was looking for. When she grabbed it, though, a rune appeared and explosive force blasted her out the back of the wagon as it activated.
She rolled on the ground, head spinning. By the time she recovered, the wagon had stopped and the two men on it had gotten off and were rushing toward her. She hopped quickly to her feet just as the first one reached her. She lashed out with a series of attacks but every move in her flurry of blows was blocked. He looked as surprised as she felt.
“You fight like me,” he said.
She didn't respond and resumed her attack. She had never met anyone who knew her father's fighting style before, but she adapted quickly. After a rapid exchange, she winded him with a palm strike to the torso and sent him tumbling with a kick to the side of the head.
She was moving before he hit the ground, sprinting for the wall of a nearby property. She zigzagged her movement, not presenting an easy shot, which proved wise as a bolt of magic shot past her. A glowing rune appeared in her path and she neatly side-stepped it, almost having reached the wall. Behind her, she heard a spell being chanted.
“Carry the mark of your transgressions.”
Sophie felt a burning on the side of her face but didn't let it slow her down. She reached the wall and ran up it as if it were flat ground. Reaching the top, she pulled herself over and out of sight.