Chapter 52: Speaker (Patreon)

The Rose Room, as the man in green had called it, was a shock of red against the browns and grays of the main cave complex. It was wood-panelled, and small. Elliot and his escort had risen a few hundred feet using a lift system in the large cavern, but not far enough to even approach the surface.

He sat at a diminutive wooden table, a cup of tea in front of him. The man in green sat opposite, and the others had left. The walls were hung with pictures of flowers.

“Try the tea,” the man said, sipping from own cup—a delicate green ceramic piece with no handle.

“No thank you,” Elliot replied stiffly. He hadn’t spoken since leaving the cell, worried that even a word would get him gagged.

“It’s a local blend. I had it purchased in Tular before the attack.”

Elliot’s jaw tightened. “I’ll pass.”

“Well. Let me know if you change your mind.”

The conversation stalled. The man in green was back in control, sitting with one leg folded in his lap, taking in a painting of two white roses on the opposite wall. If Elliot hadn’t seen his composure break in the cell, he’d have thought the man was completely ambivalent about their current conversation.

“What do I call you?” Elliot finally asked, the silence proving too uncomfortable.

“You can call me Speaker.”

“That’s it? No name?”

The man smiled. “You didn’t learn it from your inspection?”

“It didn’t work very well,” Elliot replied. He had already decided to downplay his skill as much as he could, although it was likely too little too late. “You’re well defended.”

“So modest. But I’m afraid I don’t believe you.” The man, Speaker, took a sip of his tea. “The breakdown of my defenses was impressive, if brief. I’m sure you don’t know much about me, but I’m equally sure you know something. But let’s not worry about that for now. There are more interesting things to discuss.” He looked down at Elliot’s hand.

Closing it into a fist instinctively, Elliot tensed. “I was just delving the weakest warren I could find. On a dare. It’s not my fault the reward did this. I don’t even know what it means.” And I can’t even tell you a lot of what I know anyway, with the compulsion. I hope that doesn’t get me killed.

“You have no idea? Not even an inkling?”

“Not even an inkling,” Elliot replied.

“Well,” Speaker said, placing his cup down on the table. “Let us leave that there for a moment, then. I wish to tell you a story.”

“A story?”

“Once upon a time,” Speaker continued without acknowledging Elliot’s question, “there was a beast who was quite gifted in the arts of dealing death, and for its skill it was rewarded with a crown.”

There was a pause, and Elliot eyed the man uncertainly. Speaker had turned back to the painting on the other wall.

“The beast was ever-hungry, and the crown was not enough. Nothing ever was, though it lived for centuries, growing fat on plunder and tribute alike. It grew bored. Where once it was vicious only to its enemies, it turned instead to its friends. And, once again, it was rewarded.”

Elliot tried to use this strange diversion to organize his thoughts, but every time he started sorting priorities the weight of everything felt too crushing. This wasn’t like a delve, where Breka had assured him it was roughly within his abilities, and quick reflexes were enough to get him through most obstacles. What the hell was he supposed to do?

“The existence of this beast is a stain upon the continent. It pretends to virtue while bathing in a history of sin.”

“Are you talking about the Titan That Sleeps?”  Elliot asked, deciding to take a risk. Complete ignorance was an impossible sell. Better to hide Breka, and admit only basic knowledge, which hopefully wouldn’t push the limits of the gag on his speech.

“No,” Speaker replied. “The Titan is an entirely different sort of beast than mine. Greater in some ways, lesser in others. I do intend for them to meet, though. I hope the Titan will wreak a great destruction upon my enemy. But that is for the future. For now, I simply wish to change the world.”

“What does that mean?” Elliot asked. “What’s all this killing for?”

“To begin, I want to wake the Titan That Sleeps. Poison or not, I believe it is an essential step to take.”

The matter-of-factness caught Elliot off guard, and he blinked rapidly. “Poison?”

“The thing that infects it. The Dark Spear. The Starshadow. Whatever you would like to call it, as no one knows its true name. Surely you sense it, bound to the Titan as you are?”

“I’m not—” he broke off, licking his lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Speaker snorted. “Whatever your origin, you were clearly not schooled in disassembling. Your bond to the Titan is not in question. If you wish to fence with me, pick a different point to be your lie.”

“I don’t sense any dark spears, so if you think I should then maybe it’s you who’s confused.”

“Hmm.” The man took another sip. “Interesting.”

There was another pause. Elliot shifted in his chair. What was his win condition here? Survive the conversation? Maybe, tragically. What would be helpful? Keeping his abilities hidden, or showing enough to keep the man interested in keeping him alive? Too little information. Was a closer connection to the Titan reason to preserve him, maybe long enough for Breka to arrive, or was it just going to make him a more tempting blood bag for a ritual?

“The longer we speak, the more I think you did not, in fact, learn my name,” Speaker finally said.

Several different expressions tried to form on Elliot’s face at once, and he made a soft humming noise.

“Which is fascinating. Because I would have sworn this morning that my protections could have withstood assault from someone in the fourth, or maybe even fifth circle. Yet your appraisal was clearly rushed, and unpracticed. And it seems as if you missed even the most superficial information an intruder would have sought. Perhaps a powerful bloodline ability that awakened early? One you haven’t had a chance to master?”

This time, Elliot managed to keep his face blank, or mostly blank. He’d never been any good at poker. “Something like that.”

“Tell me this,” the man continued, “what did the Titan’s figurine look like, when you took it?”

Elliot hesitated. Can I share that? I think it’s just the information from the dream that’s bound. “It was purple crystal, and small. The Titan looks like a three-headed bull, but with a predator’s jaws, and really long thin horns.” Do they have bulls here?

“So detailed,” Speaker replied, his expression pained. “The process was even more successful than I’d imagined. Such a shame I didn’t return in time. You have no idea how much social capital I had to burn to prepare that warren.”

“Why not leave it better guarded, if it was so important to you?”

“It’s rare indeed for anyone strong enough to roam the Gerrwood to find a fledgling warren interesting enough to explore. For those with the rare confluence of ability, location, and interest, the overcharged conduits would have generally been sufficient to ensure they didn’t walk away. Not to mention my opposition. The more defenses I left, the more chance of discovery by those with the means to frustrate my objective. How did you get past the explosions?”

“I suck at appraising people, but I’m good at objects. Once I noticed they were there, it was easy to avoid them.”

Speaker tilted his head. “It shouldn’t have been possible to appraise them at your level, but I suppose that’s no surprise. Then what about the figurine? How did you activate it? And to create a true sigil, no less. Even I had not presumed to reach so high.”

What to say, what to say. “It just happened. I touched it, there was a flash of light, and the mark was on my hand.”

“Hmm. No. Try again.”

Elliot’s lips twitched. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t believe you. And while I’m willing to let you have your share of secrets in the name of a cordial relationship, this is one I need an answer to. So, try again.”

“What do you think I could possibly have done? I don’t have some secret method to activate more of them, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Sipping his tea, Speaker kept his eyes on Elliot’s face, expression neutral. “Do you know the girl in your cell?”

A cold, tight sensation kindled in Elliot’s chest. “Excuse me?”

“Do you know her?”

“No. I haven’t even spoken to her.”

“I see.” Speaker placed the cup down again. “Try again. Once more.”

“Um,” Elliot replied, trying to keep his voice from shaking, “I did use my appraisal skill. I think the connection happened when I managed to inspect it.”

“Wonderful,” Speaker said, smiling. “That is equally implausible, but I have much more faith in its honesty. It’s impossible for you to have actually appraised it, but it’s useful to know your attempt was what triggered the bond. Tell me, when you see this, does it look at all familiar?”

He raised a small chunk of stone in one hand, and Elliot’s eyes widened. It was dark gray shale, the exact same shade and texture as in his dream.

“Excellent,” Speaker said, his smile widening.

“What do you want from me?” Elliot asked.

“Not your death, unless it’s absolutely necessary. The rest we’ll discuss later. Guard!” The last was called towards the door. One of his escorts slipped into the room almost immediately. “Take this young man back to his cell. Be gentle.”

The man in gray robes walked over to place a hand on Elliot’s shoulder, urging him to his feet.

“We’ll speak again soon,” Speaker said, giving him a polite nod.

The walk back to the dungeon was silent. The guard pushed him into the cell after unlocking the door, and Elliot tried to note the rough size and shape of the small silver key he’d used.

Yolena and the girl were both sitting down, on opposite ends of the space. No one spoke until the guard’s footsteps faded away.

“Are you alright, lad?” Yolena asked, moving over to place a hand on his back. “I’m sorry I got you in trouble. It’s rare for someone to be able to sense an inspection.”

The girl moved forward as well, staying crouched and tense like a sparrow ready to take flight. She kept Elliot between her and Yolena, stopping a few feet away.

“Don’t worry,” Elliot said, grinning. “I would have done it anyway.” He gave the girl a tiny wave, although he only flicked his eyes towards her for a split second. She still looked on the brink of bolting.

“What did you learn?” Yolena asked softly.

“Not much. Not his name. He had something that blocked me at first, and when I got through everything was scattered. He’s rich, and from old money. He has a sister named Bellaria who doesn’t speak to him anymore, and he’s the one who hired the Talessi in order to wake the Titan That Sleeps. Oh, and his goal is instability, not mass casualties.”

“Are you joking?”

“What? No, why?”

“How could you have possibly learned all that? I’ve never heard of an appraisal skill that could reach so deep with only one brief activation, even ignoring your weakness.”

Great question. Wish I knew. “I think it was a mix of me having a strange skill and his barrier making things weird. I doubt I would have gotten as much if I didn’t have to push so hard to get anything at all.” He paused, considering. “And I think there’s something about the fact that he was relying on what felt like external protection. It was like once I got past it, he was mostly unguarded.”

“Mmm.” Yolena looked out into the poorly-lit hallway. “Does he know what you learned?”

“Maybe? I’m not sure. It felt like he was good at figuring out what I was thinking, and he could tell I didn’t know his name. He might have intuited more, or he might have thought the fact that I didn’t get his name means I didn’t get much at all.”

The whole conversation had felt like a series of sharp twists and turns, with Elliot barely keeping up. Why did the man have the piece of shale? And what was a dark spear? Something about the image felt familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it.

“What did he mean when he said you took his figurine?” Yolena asked.

What secrets did it make sense to keep? This felt like a big one, much bigger than his strange skillset. “He did something weird to a weak warren that I found by accident. I ended up taking the reward that he’d been planning on harvesting for himself.”

“A strange coincidence, for you to find him here. You have nothing more to share? No organization you represent?”

“No…I get that it looks suspicious,” does it look suspicious? Was it suspicious to say that? “I have strong backers. But they’re not an organization, per se.” Well I guess it’s sort of the Andalusian intelligence services, or whatever. But not really. Breka and Hadrian are Breka and Hadrian.

Yolena squeezed the bridge of her nose lightly, then stood. “I’m glad you’re alright. Everyone has secrets. Try to share what might help us survive.”

“I will. If you need me to do anything, just say it.”

“Are we not going to survive?” the question came faintly, almost inaudibly, from behind.

Elliot twisted, seeing the girl looking right at him.

“Sorry,” Yolena said, face scrunching slightly, “I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay,” Elliot interjected. “She’s stuck in here with us; she deserves to know what’s going on.” All he could think of was Rowan in the girl’s place, back when she was seven. He hadn’t been a parent figure to her then, but it was easy to remember a kid that age still had plenty of ability to comprehend the world around them. “What’s your name?”

“Sasha,” she said, still so quiet he could barely hear.

“Well, Sasha, we’re in some trouble. It’s dangerous here, for sure. But they didn’t kill us, and that means they want something. We have some very strong people looking for this hideout now, and Yolena here is very strong as well. I think we have a good chance to figure something out and find our way back home.”

“But you don’t know?”

“No,” Elliot replied slowly. “I don’t know. I hope. But I don’t know.”

She looked down at the floor, and for a moment Elliot worried that he’d messed up, but then she scooted closer until she was leaning against his side.

Reaching out with one arm, he gave her a gentle hug. It was unacceptable to let her die. There was one thing he could do while locked in a cell, and that was sleep, and try to dream. 

He was going to get answers that would give him the advantage when he next talked to Speaker. No matter what he had to do to get them.