CH 22

February 11, 2023

Stella, Varrell, and Clever entered the East District led by the Orson servants. There was no repeat of what had happened with Gard; they probably had orders not to act disrespectfully toward her. That said, they looked none too pleased.

“What?”

“It’s nothing,” said Stella. “I was just half expecting this to be a kidnapping.”

“It would’ve been, if you hadn’t agreed to come along. Master Apollo was very clear that he wanted you alive, so don’t worry about it.”

“Wow, thanks. That’s so reassuring I think I’m going to cry.”

The man snorted. “I see now why the young master is so interested in you.” He turned to his subordinates. “Don’t let the girl’s looks fool you. They say she’s the Stock Company’s witch.”

The men replied at the top of their lungs. Stella let out an annoyed sigh.

This was Stella’s first time in the East District. It was not so different from the West District, except for the large number of stores and houses displaying the Orson sigil, the symbol of the family’s authority. It was also a symbol of their indifference toward outsiders. The people of this district paid dearly just to live their lives in peace. But then, everyone in this town did.

Extortion in exchange for protection, thought Stella. And whoever refuses to pay gets turned into an example. An impressive system, to be sure.

Stella herself lived within that system, using the Stock Company as an umbrella to keep unwanted raindrops at bay. It would suffice, for now. In view of some recent disappointments, however, it was almost time to find a new umbrella.

“We’re here. I’ll tell them to open the door. Once we’re inside, don’t do anything unless you’re told, or we might have to kill you.”

“Sure, I suppose,” said Stella.

The man snorted.

The Orson Manor was the largest, most conspicuous building in the East District. More fortress than manor, it was surrounded by a moat and solidly built, with high walls to keep out intruders and manned watchtowers that covered the grounds leaving no blind spots.

The chief family of the East District indeed. It’s a shame Apollo, of all people, is the heir to all this.

The current patriarch of the family was clearly a capable man. Stella wondered what kind of education he’d given his son. If only he’d done the exact opposite, Apollo could have grown up to become an exemplary human being.

The man approached the massive front gate and knocked twice. A small slit opened and a pair of eyes showed through. A few words were exchanged, and the gate slowly swung open. The man gestured with his chin for her to follow, then strode in without waiting.

“It’s not exactly an escort if he leaves me behind like that,” said Stella, throwing her hands up in disbelief. “Maybe I should turn around and leave.”

Varrell bowed respectfully and said, “Or—if you would allow me to be so bold—may I escort you in his place, mistress?”

“You may. We shouldn’t have any problems, but keep an eye open.”

“Of course. Don’t worry about a thing.”

Stella chuckled. “Come on. You started it. At least try to stay in character.”

As Stella entered the manor, Clever hopped onto her shoulder. The less explaining she’d have to do, the better, so she told him to stay quiet during their stay. In the case of a fight, though, Stella had ordered him to go all out. The manor might not withstand it, but there was no reason to hold back.

“This is some impressive interior design,” said Stella. “Very thorough.”

“Banias Orson, the current patriarch, single-handedly made the Orson Family what it is today,” said Varrell. “He’s a determined man, one who’s overcome numerous trials in his life. He never forgives betrayal, and he never abandons a family member. This code of honor, I’ve heard, has led to a strong cohesion in his family.”

“I see. That’s good to know.”

Where the outside was a fortress, the inside was a maze of doors and rooms and protective fences. The place had been intruder-proofed with such zeal that Stella found herself shocked with wonder. A direct assault would be difficult, if not impossible. The attackers would have to search through countless rooms, and in the meantime their quarry would have ample opportunity to escape unnoticed, probably through some secret passageway or trapdoor.

If it were Stella attacking, though, she would simply burn the place down. A faster, more practical approach. Though the fire would certainly spread to adjacent areas of the East District.

“It’s a wonderful house,” said Stella. “I might take a lesson or two to apply to the store. Not the maze, though. I don’t like it.”

Mazes were terribly inconvenient things to have in a home, even if they could slow down intruders. The outer defenses, on the other hand, held plenty of useful lessons. They were strong enough to make even the boldest idiots think twice before attacking.

“This place must have cost a fortune,” said Varrell. “But what’s a fortune to you anyway? You could probably make one in a day if you set your mind to it. You’re bolder and more talented than you have any right to be. I wish I knew your secret.”

“Thanks for the compliment, but I won’t tell you. Women have many secrets.”

“Dang it. If you’re like that at ten years old, by the time you’re thirty you’ll have taken over the world.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice? You can be commander of my imperial guard.”

“Your immeasurable kindness brings a tear to my eye.”

“I know, right?” Stella chuckled.

That interaction earned them a reproachful look. Sure, I’ll shut up.

They reached a dead end. Two men stood there with their hands clasped behind their backs, grinning as if they knew something she didn’t. Then the wall swung open. A secret door.

“Master Apollo’s room is through this passageway.”

Stella nodded, then studied the door with a hand to her chin. “It’s an interesting contraption, if completely useless.”

“Useless? Why?” asked Varrell.

“Suppose the manor was being attacked. Only a Beck would choose to hide here instead of running away. It’s an utter waste of money.”

“The heir of such an important family can’t simply run away. What would that do to his reputation?”

“Hiding, running away, what’s the difference? Neither is anything to be proud of. Might as well join the fight outside.”

“Well, it’s Apollo we’re talking about . . .”

“True. He wouldn’t make much of a difference. In fact, I believe he would tip the scales in the enemy’s favor.” Stella snickered.

“Watch your mouth, girl! Just ’cause you’re Master Apollo’s guest doesn’t mean you can say whatever you want.”

“Oh. How careless of me. I didn’t mean to speak the truth. My humblest apologies from the bottom of my heart. Verily, I do mean it.”

The man glared at her, and was halfway through an insult when one of the others, shaking his head, grabbed him by the arm. They resumed walking in silence. What’s wrong? Did he not like my sincere apology?

Then they finally arrived at their destination.

The dark passageway opened into a large hall decorated with golden sculptures and golden weapons and armor. Atop an opulent table were arranged various alcohol bottles, confections, and fruits. And, for some reason, there were piles upon piles of golden ingots everywhere.

Apollo sat across from Stella, looking smug.

This time, he was in formal dress. Perhaps it was an attempt at playing host, but the effort was undermined by the sorry state of his face. His eyes were bruised and swollen, his lips cut, his nose bandaged.

“We brought the girl, Master Apollo.”

“Well done. Leave us now. I’ll talk to her in private.”

“Is that wise, Master? These people don’t know their place. I could barely hold back from punching the girl earlier.”

“Who the heck told you to do that! Anyway, leave us. That’s an order.”

“As you wish. I’ll be right outside; call out if anything happens. Can’t have you dying on me, Master.” He bowed and left.

Stella waited. Apollo didn’t say anything, so she started the conversation. “I’m honored to have been invited into your stately abode, Mr. Apollo Orson.”

“Come on, I know you don’t mean it! You’re itching to ask, aren’t you? About what happened to my face. It’s an unsightly mess, I know. How low the great Apollo has fallen!”

Stella grinned. “Actually, I think it’s an improvement.”

“You little—” Apollo sprang to his feet, throwing spittle everywhere, only to contort his face in pain and sit down again immediately after. His body, it would seem, was in a similar condition to his face.

“It was after we met in the arena,” he said. “My old man got word of my failure, and did this to me as a ‘lesson.’ And whose fault is that? Huh?!”

“What do you mean? It’s all your fault.”

A short silence.

Apollo sighed and ruffled up his hair. “Dammit. You’re this close to pissing me off, but we’ve got stuff to talk about. Sit down, you two.”

“You don’t have to ask.” Stella sat down.

“Tch. You got some nerve, girl.”

“So, what do you want? Is it revenge? Is that why you got me to come all the way here, where I’m completely at your mercy?”

Apollo ignored her provocation. He briefly looked away. “No. Not revenge.”

Clever hopped down onto the table and started pecking at the confections. Apollo looked at him with heartfelt displeasure.

He turned back to Stella. “I want you to understand one thing. You only got the better of me that day because I got careless. I left you with the wrong impression of me, which needs to be fixed, so I thought I’d give you a glimpse of the full extent of my power. You should be thankful, girl, for the great Apollo rarely wastes his time on the likes of you.”

“. . . Uh-huh.”

Apollo threw his arms wide and snorted. “You’ve witnessed the fortress I call home. There’s no enemy it can’t repel, even if they manage to get in. I have the unwavering loyalty of my family’s subordinates, not to mention more money than I know what to do with. This is the man you messed with, girl!”

Silence.

“I see you’re terrified speechless. Did you even understand what I said? Well, if you get on your knees and apologize, I’m willing to forget the whole ordeal. Even I, the great Apollo, can be a merciful man.” He snorted again.

Clever voraciously attacked the confections. Varrell said nothing.

A grim realization dawned on Stella.

“Don’t tell me . . . Is that all you have to say?” she said.

Apollo nodded cheerfully.

“Are you sure? That’s the only reason you called me here? You’re not joking?”

“On my word as a man!”

A strong bout of vertigo. For a moment, Stella thought she was going to faint. This was even worse than the earlier episode with Gard. Never before in her life had Stella experienced a greater sense of futility. Thankfully, on the way here, she’d come up with her own business to discuss with Apollo. If not for that, the sheer self-loathing might have caused her demise.

“Where’s my answer, girl? Spit it out! Patience is not one of my many virtues.”

“Yes. Your manor, your wealth, your subordinates, they’re all great. It’s impressive what your father was able to do in one generation.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

“Everything about your family is great. Everything except you, Apollo.”

“Scorning me again? That’s it, you’ve crossed the line!”

“Silence. You see, that’s your problem. You wear your family name like some expensive trinket you got as a gift, but when you’re in a real pinch, all you can do is pee your pants. Or am I wrong?”

“S-Shut up, goddammit!” Apollo slammed a fist on the table. He was flushing violently, but made no more excuses.

It was simply true. As much as he’d like to forget the events of that day, they had scarred him for life. That was nothing less than he deserved. He couldn’t vent out his frustration, either. Not here, with Clever watching.

“One day, your father is going to decide he’s had enough of your incompetence,” said Stella. “Or perhaps you’ll inherit the family name only to get killed by one of your subordinates. Betrayal is a common theme in this town, as I’m sure you know.”

“N-Not among the Orsons! We have our code of honor!”

“Your ‘code of honor’ would never work if your father were not the man that he is. Once you take over, anything can happen. Have you seen yourself in the mirror? Would you follow that man unconditionally?”

“Y-You . . . You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Doubt. It was there, on his face. Apollo had been punished severely for his failure, and even he realized what that meant: if he failed enough times, one day he’d be cast aside. He saw the problem; he was simply ignoring it.

“Don’t worry, Apollo. Cheer up. It’s all right to fail; you just need to succeed next time. Isn’t that right?”

“N-Now you’re getting kind on me, huh? I won’t fall for your tricks, witch! I’m not afraid of you!”

Why does everyone call me that? I’m not that bad.

Stella smiled. “You’re not afraid. I see. Does saying it out loud make it easier to believe?”

“T-There’s a magekiller incense burning in this room. Try all you want, your magic won’t—”

“Sure, I can try. If you’re willing to bet your life on it. I’ll give you a few moments to write your will.”

Slowly, Stella took out her Magic Crystal and set it down on the table with a deliberate thump. Then she called upon it to emit a threatening purple light. It didn’t matter if Stella couldn’t gather her mana; the crystal was not a conduit but a source. A source of power only she could control.

“Wait, wait—why’s the incense not working?!” said Apollo. “This makes no sense!”

“So, as you were saying. You’re not afraid, right?”

“I—uh—uhm . . .” He laughed awkwardly. “I-It’s not what you think. This, uh . . . Right! I was just kidding—!”

“How’s that will coming along, by the way?”

Stella hit Apollo with a kind smile. He shrieked. Rye was right. My forced smiles are scary. It had been rude of her to say it, but in times like this, it was a great intimidation tool.

“Wait! It’s really not what you think! I don’t want us to fight. I want to clear up our misunderstandings, f-forget our differences . . .” Apollo stammered out, white as a sheet.

This was fun to watch, but Stella was getting impatient. Talking to Becks like him for too long always made her head hurt. And without coffee, it was too hard to bear. “Are you done? Yes, let’s forget our differences. I happen to have the perfect gift to repair our relationship.” She took out a small vial and flung it at him.

Apollo flinched. “No! I’m not gonna die! Not by my own hand! I’m too young to die!”

It’s not poison, you idiot. “I’m not telling you to kill yourself. That’s a special elixir that’ll help restore your reputation.”

“A-An elixir?”

“Yes. It’s just a sample, but I’ll give you more if you agree to help me. Show it to your father. I’m sure he’ll be overjoyed.”

Stella explained how the elixir worked and how to best make use of its immense economic value. All in simple terms that even an idiot like him could understand. Apollo was skeptical at first, but as he listened, his eyes started glinting with ambition. He was a simple man, and easy to manipulate.

“I’ll have to make sure you’re not duping me, of course,” he said. “For now, though . . . I’m sure I’ll regret asking, but what do you require of the great Apollo?”

You can’t regret anything more than I regret coming here, Stella thought indignantly. She hurled some fruit at Apollo. He was caught off guard, and it hit him in the face. As the idiot held his nose and wailed, Clever pelted him with a barrage of small, pebble-like nuts using his feet. It was not unlike waltzing. I’m glad he’s having fun.

“Stop! It hurts, goddammit! Stupid bird!”

‘Yer a fun guy, eh? This is better than picking on Beck!’

“Knock it off! What the heck do you want from me?!” Apollo flapped his hands in front of his face.

Stella smiled. “I want your help with two things. The first is a matter of personal revenge. The second is a great purging of the West District. In exchange, I’ll give you power and status. This is, by far, the best opportunity of your life.”

“. . . Huh?”

“Convince your father to get on board with my plan. And don’t fail. Your life depends on it.”

He agreed to think on the matter.

Stella left the manor feeling tired. Varrell walked beside her carrying the many gifts Apollo had given her. It was nothing more than an ostentatious display of wealth, of course, but Stella accepted them regardless. Marie would appreciate the rare foods and liquors.

“I will sleep on your offer,” Apollo had said, “and make my decision tomorrow, when my mind is clear.” That was a lot of words to say yes. He wouldn’t refuse; Stella had seen the ambition in his eyes. He could probably use that ambition to persuade his father Banias to bring the family to her side. As patriarch of his family, the man would see the benefits of working with her.

Other than that, all traces of Apollo’s former pathetic behavior had vanished. There was some of his father in him after all. Apollo might be the kind of idiot that could work toward a goal and get things done. When life brought him down, he was quick to recover. With a little more competence, he could become a worthy patriarch to his family. Well, if he lived that long. He could get stabbed tomorrow. Or Stella could poison him. Or Clever could take his testicles. The future was unknown. That was why life was so fun.

Varrell looked worried. “What’s your game, Stella? Wasn’t that elixir supposed to be an exclusive deal with the Stock Company? They won’t stand around and let you give it to their rivals.”

Stella knew that, of course. “Do you not like conflict?”

“Unnecessary conflict should be avoided.”

“It’s not unnecessary. This is one half of a larger scheme. I’ll set up the second half next, and then I’ll wait. Rye taught me fishing, right? This is not so different.” Stella chuckled. “I wonder what I’ll catch.”

“Don’t tell me . . . Do you mean to change the power structure of this town?”

“Me? I’m just a child.”

Varrell was taken aback. “You should work on your excuses, you know!”

“I don’t have any grand ambitions. I just want to live in a peaceful neighborhood. The West District is too noisy, don’t you think? But, well, there’s something else too. I want certain people to suffer what I’ve suffered.” Stella clenched her teeth.

“There’s going to be quite a lot of bloodshed involved. Do you really want to go through with it?”

“What’s wrong with bloodshed? People will die, but they won’t be the good, virtuous kind of people you’re worried about. So it’s fine, right? In fact, I’m positive that the sooner we clean up this mess, the fewer victims will be made.”

Varrell was worried about the commonfolk, people like Marie and Rye. No harm would come to them; of that, Stella was certain. Even if she failed, all she’d have to do was find a scapegoat to take the blame. The Company wouldn’t dare lay a finger on her. Not while Gard’s life was in her hands.

“. . . I see,” said Varrell. A noncommittal reply.

“Do you have a problem with my methods?”

“I’m a much better fighter than I am a thinker. I may give you my opinion, but I won’t oppose your decisions. My job right now is to protect you and the others.”

“Thank you, my precious Varrell. I believe you won’t let me down.”

Stella laughed like a child.