Okay, so the front of the building really was a damn mess. The whole front face of the edifice was scarred and marked, the relief carvings scratched to hell. The big showy portico was gone, reduced to piles of rubble stacked off to one side, and the columns were laid out in pieces on the lawn. The whole verge in front was covered over with wooden planks fitted side-to-side to create a flat level walkway over what was, apparently, a pretty devastating sinkhole. And at the top of the stairs, on top of those planks, in front of the door, under the empty space where an overhang awning used to cover... there were a dozen or more students standing awkwardly around. Others walked past them, but these were waiting. Some leaned, some squatted, some just stood about.
And when one of them spotted me, she signaled the others. All twelve of these moved closer, formed up tight. I tried not to get too aggressive, but started channeling steel into myself. Just in case.
The traffic of students flowed into the facility, but these twelve were waiting, and they were waiting for me. I mounted the steps, heading their way, and one shy-looking girl started to applaud. The guy next to her cheered, raising his fist. The rest, all reacted, cheering, clapping, calling out to me. Josse was there, the rest were all strangers.
The shy-looking girl ran ahead, and reached for my hands. "Thank you!" she blurted out. "I was so scared! We all-" she choked up.
Oh. These are the kids who were on the patio with me. The ones that would have died.
They mustered around me, laughing, cheering, reaching out to touch my arms, thanking me, grateful, happy. And so glad that I'm all right too. They were worried for me, they owed me so much, and I was just dazed by all of this. I didn't realize they would be waiting, I didn't expect to see them again.
I'm a hero for them. It's kind of an amazing feeling. I break, I loosen up, and I start laughing with them. I reach out, clasp hands, pat shoulders, and I trade jibes. I unwind enough Natalie Harigold to smile with them and to accept their kindness and to shake hands and tell them how glad I am none of them were hurt. The first girl just hovered around with nothing to do with her hands until I stepped in close and gave her a hug. I put my hands on her shoulders and pressed her close for a small friendly hug, but she grabbed back at me like a lifeline, and I think she might have cried a little.
I'm not the only one that almost died. And I'm not the only one that really hates it.
I turned around, and Nathan was beaming proudly. I stepped in close and hugged him too. He still gives the best hugs. Warm, firm, thoughtful.
"I'm so glad-" he started, shaking his head.
"You thought you lost me?"
"I did."
"You thought my last words were you were telling you to solve this Blight?"
"I did," he admitted. "And I'm going during lunch to talk to-"
I patted his shoulder. "I know. Go armed. Now, when you get to homeroom tell them that I'm all right. But tell them not to expect me."
"You're skipping?" he said, smiling with surprise and exhilaration. "You?"
"I'm not that much of a stickler," I said grouchily. I'm bad! I'm a villain! I'm a convicted mass-murderer! Why does my brother think I'm an apple-polishing goodie-two-shoes? "Anyway, I've got things to take care of. And it's apparently not going to wait even one more day. So, um, tell them I'm taking a sick day to recover."
"You're not actually going to take it easy and re-"
"Oh gods no, I'm going to make sure this doesn't happen again," I promised him.
And then he got serious, very serious like he does sometimes. "Natalie, what are you going to do?"
How to answer that.... "Nothing that I don't have to, I promise," I said. And then lights flashed and I was gone.
First stop, miles east of here. I flew up and found the scar on the wall. I drew stone from the wall, as if I wanted to gather stone for a spear without conjuring it. Just using the bare minimum number of spells, conserving mana, curving stone instead of creating. As if I was behaving differently than almost any sorcerer.
Conserving mana is not really a concern for them. Even low-intelligence sorcerers have more than enough mana for all their spells in a day, I'm basically the only one that has more options than mana to activate them. Kimothy could run all his spells in order all day long and never get close to running out. It doesn't work that way.
But presuming it does. I fashioned a spear, by drawing out stone like it was liquid and forming a streamlined weapon. No gouge in the wall. And not powdered stone below from where I sharpened it by removing material. I channeled the owl to get my eyes sharpened, and took aim at the sport field at the Academy, over a mile away. I aimed, readied, and then launched. The spear leaped away, and flew in a sharp flat trajectory straight at where I had been. I threw it hard, and it whistled through the air.
And then it shattered on the wards that surrounded the school. Because of course it did, it's a magical attack and they're made to withstand that. A spear attack from curved sorcery is not thrown like a catapult, it's propelled like a guided missile. Curving the stone infuses it with motion, it moves until it is stopped. It's just like how curving the mind of an animal gives it new instincts it can never overwrite: sorcery does not have a back to normal mode. When I cause steel to hover, I'm not maintaining it with an invisible grip in my mind, I'm programming it to hold itself against gravity. If I start myself flying, I keep flying until I choose to steer, stop, or slow down. So a flung stone spear from curving sorcery would be a magical attack that even rudimentary wards would stop.
And the school has very good wards. So whatever launched that javelin at me, did not use that self-propelled sorcery. It just took a lot of force and threw a spear at me really hard. That's what it would take to cross all that space and still have any force... but even then, the targeting doesn't work. It's too far, and the shot is too precise. Even if the wards didn't catch it, you can't throw something that aerodynamic over a mile away and hit a human-sized target in just a few seconds. I did not realize how stupid that was until I came out here and tried.
The attack came from inside the wards.
I had suspected before, but this time someone had used triggered spells right on the school building. A lot of my initial assumptions, such as Anolm Hardted, were based on the idea that the assassin would not be able to get on-campus. After all, why take stone from a mile away?
Other than to deflect suspicion of course.
The first attack was cautious to try to kill me without revealing themselves. The second was more desperate. It gave away more information. Quarl told me early: this is personal. Personal means close.
I teleport back. Someone worked to hide themselves and create a narrative here.
Thumper is waiting out side of the field-maintenance shed, looking impatient. I drop out of the sky next to her. "Hey, girl, what's up?"
"Waiting for the groundskeepers," she said. "Some wizard boosted all- wait! You're all right!"
"Yes I am!" I said proudly. "Managed to rescue myself."
She was gobsmacked. "You- you're a hero! All those people!"
"It was only like nine or ten," I said. "It's not like the whole-"
She hugged me, then thrust me back out to arm's length. "You did great. Thank you. What are you doing here?"
"I'm going to find out who's trying to kill me, especially if they don't care who else they kill," I said. "What about you?"
"Yeah, the team captains for the different sports are taking turns helping the groundskeepers. That wizard that helped you hold the building up also grew every plant on campus, including the grass on the sport pitches. So one of the keyholders needs to be here to watch over the equipment while they mow the fields, and I am just waiting because they haven't even showed up yet!"
"Oh?" I said, smirking. "Is that all? Allow me now."
Essence of grass. Curved. I flew fast, and low, sweeping across the fields. And in my wake, a hundred feet to either side, grass fell over at ankle-height, shorn in place. Not broken edges, the grass was now just shorter, and all the extra length dropped off. I scooped the loose cuttings as I went. and towed them along in a tornado behind me, siphoning up all the cut grass as I zoomed all about the sport fields.
When I was done, a truly massive pile of mulch was left on the sidelines, and I dropped next to her with a wide grin. "Thumper, I need your help," I said.
She stared at the wide-open fields. What had most resembled untamed jungle was now ready to use as a golf course, in just a few minute's time. "Huh. My keys?"
"Not this time," I said. "How loud can you yell?"
"You'd be amazed," she said.
"Perfect," I said, and I told her my plan.
I thrust the door open. Advanced Natural Philosophy. Professor Ryichsur looked up startled. And then he smiled. "Nata- Lady Harigold! A pleasure to see- but you're early? Our class isn't for -"
"Need a favor," I blurted out.
"Name it," he said.
"Teacher's schedules. I could teleport in and steal a key or whatever, but I wouldn't know where to find the right piece of paper," I said. "I want to see every free period. I have to be sure."
"Um, sure?" he said. "But, after, I'm going to need a favor from you."
Oh fuck please don't ask me out or something please I just-
"Could you talk to someone?" he said. "You're frazzled. You've been closer to the edge for these past weeks. I think you've been taking a lot on, and I don't think you know how to let things off of your shoulders. There's a counselor I was working with, years ago, when I was burning out. Take her card, please."
I barked a laugh. "I'm not sure I've got time for a therapist, Professor, what with all the -"
"That's exactly when you need one the most," he said, with a gentler insistence than I expected. "I'm seeing a lot of myself in you. And when I first came to this Academy as a student... even when I was taking time off I wasn't taking time off, I was just living here in my head. You're burning a lot of candles at both ends, and if you're going to make it.... you need someone in your corner."
Well shit now I'm dumbstruck. And he's less sleazy than I thought. And, apparently I'm not hiding my condition as well as I thought.
"I'll take the card," I said. "If you can get me those pages before lunch."
He stood and grabbed his coat. "I'll walk over there right now."
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"Hi Kimothy."
"Natalie! What- what are you doing here?"
"Narrowing the field. Yesterday while I was a tree, did anyone talk to you a whole lot about me? Everything that you and I have discussed about me?"
"Er- yes? But-"
"But nothing. Is that person on this list?"
"Yes, uh, right next to your thumb."
"Thought so. Thanks for your help. Shake well. Bye!"
My day has been flying by, if you'll pardon the play on words. I've been moving fast, teleporting and flying around. I've been making a big display of it too, moving very publicly. I paused to reassemble part of the marble columns, I summoned owls and sent them on errands. And while each thing I've done has been quick, finding people and prepping up keeps taking more time. It's taken hours to do several minutes worth of productive work. So by the time I'm ready for my next step, it's nearly lunch time. Weirdly, that is convenient to me.
I stepped out of a flash of white light at the central offices of the Royal Cavalry Guard.
"Halt! Who goes there!"
"Princess Natalie Harigold of Meadowtam, esquire. I do not have an appointment."
The guard at the guardsman's office was not impressed by that answer, but guardian knights would never really like anyone bringing a surprise, would they? The RCG is part ceremonial parade guard, part secret police, part private army to the crown. That's a lot of hats for one organization to wear, but they are well-funded, well-supported, and well-supplied. They are the bluntest instrument, the sharpest scalpel, and the shiniest ornament, all at the same time.
I waited impatiently for only a few minutes, because the man I was looking for was already headed out.
"L-Lady Harigold?"
"Captain Maspers," I said with a big smile. "I may require some assistance. Off the record, for a little while."
He paused, glancing around at the room we were in. In keeping with their role as the gaudiest garnish of the crown's agencies, the space was large and impressive, with hanging tapestries and light-multiplying chandeliers. Tall arched ceilings and gold trimmings dominated the large, echoing space. He looked back at me. "I was just heading out to lunch."
"Someplace quiet, off the beaten path, kept by regulars who mind their business?" I asked.
"You know just the type," he said, and started unfolding the cloak in his arms. "We should not speak in the carriage."
I have not been in a carriage in a while. For a few weeks before school started I took one everywhere I went, but since then I've been on campus, teleporting, flying, walking, spelunking... everything that a horse-drawn hansom does not do. And at no time when I was ever riding in carriages did I feel like I should not speak freely inside of them. But Captain Maspers apparently knows better.
The ride was quiet and he watched out the windows. I watched him.
If anything he seemed to have bulked up a little more across the arms and shoulders from when I saw him last, he seemed very fit and fighting-trim. His clothes fit him well but when he moved at certain angles they pulled as if he were wearing a coat-of-plates underneath. If he was, he had felted the edges of the metal armor so that it would not clink or rattle metal-to-metal. This was the man who had first introduced himself to me as Sir Chomas, but I later found that was a contraction of his name, Chaun Maspers, and that "sir" was an overly modest honorific for a full division captain of the Royal Cavalry Guard.
He had black hair and moderately-tanned skin, and could pass for a very ordinary face for a minute. But he had Named Character hairstyle, and vivid gray eyes. Also, he was kinder than he needed to be, more perceptive than anyone had any right to be, and he was a big fan of mine. He had arrested me after I massacred a bunch of pirates and gangsters, and we had hit it off during the weeks of travel to bring me to custody. He had promised me he would never attend my hanging, but he did speak as a witness during my trial.
True to his word the restaurant he picked out was the acme of a quiet local bistro where nobody asks questions. He showed two fingers to the waitress as we walked in, and she headed straight back to the kitchen. He took me past a row of booths where people sat alone and avoided the light, and he took me to a back corner where we would have privacy and he would have a line of sight down the aisle to anyone headed our way. He took the tabletop candle and scooted it to the corner of the table where it would not shine into either of our eyes, or show either of our faces.
"You've not been very quiet since you left incarceration," Captain Maspers said, sounding amused. "It's been less than two months."
"I'm still settling in, this is gonna get worse before it gets better," I told him.
He nodded. "Well, I've had plenty of time to keep up with your budding career in professional sport, what with all the things I'm currently under orders not to investigate. A shame about Meadowtam."
"I suppose I should not be surprised," I sighed. "At least the papers have got it, that should help some. Your orders come straight from the top, of course. But we can discuss the future another time. I've got people working on that," I said. "I need your help with something today."
He laughed a little bitterly. "Six weeks ago you had nothing but the clothes on your back and one friend to rent a carriage for you. Now you have people working on that."
"I had a great deal, just not on me at the time," I said, slightly offended. "I'm glad they kept you close to Hearstcliff, I'd been worried that you were on a field assignment. I did not have a backup plan if you were not available."
"I suppose anyone with visions of the future would either get very good, or very lax, about making back up plans," he noted.
"Since I'm currently admitting to being lax, I find no room to argue," I confessed.
"And you did not have any other guardsmen you could call upon?"
"Not with your qualifications."
"And what qualifications does my lady require?"
"Impeccable character. Unimpeachable reputation. And, willing to hear me out. It may not reflect well on me that so few people meet those three marks."
"Your brother," he pointed out.
"Yes, granted, yes Nathan is absolutely all three of those," I said. "But he's going to be busy tonight when I would need him."
"Busy with what?"
"Busy interviewing a print-shop employee about the stamps used to create shipping manifests and consignment listings."
"Why- never mind," he said. "So, your brother is busy and you need someone with unimpeachable character. May I ask why?"
Just because it's Chaun Maspers, I'll come clean. "I need a witness to a murder attempt, because I can't afford to miss any class time defending myself from murder charges again."
I have his undivided attention now. Usually he's working on some other problems in his head, considering some other concerns, other cases, already planning out his moves five or six exchanges ahead... he is rarely doing only one thing at a time. I've had this from him a couple times before when all of his perceptions and intellect come bearing down at the same time. Instead of running his mind through a splitting prism, he is putting it through a focusing lens and directing all of his scrutiny on me at once.
"If this was an ordinary case-" he starts.
"The person involved is going to be protected by powerful interests," I clarify hastily.
"Ah," he said, nodding. "And depending on how powerful, you would be wise to have someone from a powerful institution at your back. But really, the Royal-"
The waitress brought by two plates of sliced fatty ham, served with sesame seeds and fennel, with beans and potatoes on the side. I tucked in immediately, I had not realized how much of an appetite I had worked up. And only when we were halfway through our plates did I realize I had skipped breakfast, so focused on revenge.
I do get like that, don't I? Once I've been targeted, wounded, hunted, I just can't rest until I've put my attackers to rest. That is something I will really need to address and correct. Soon enough a lot of this mission is going to depend on my ability to forgive fairly serious slights against me. But not today. Today this shit needs to get stopped hard.

