When they reached the safehouse, Tion Bey led them inside with hardly a word. There hadn’t been any proper introductions, and it didn’t seem like the man wanted any, which Leon was more than fine with. He and his ladies hadn’t once spoken since entering his carriage ark, leaving any talking that was needed to Justin.
The safehouse itself was nicer than Leon expected, being located in a fairly well-to-do neighborhood, one where Tion Bey’s carriage ark didn’t look particularly out of place. It was a large house for a single family, but not quite approaching mansion level. The yard was large and walled off with stone, but filled with little else but grass. Leon was at least pleased to find that the wall was warded against magic senses, but as seemed to be a running theme so far, he thought the wards could’ve used a lot of work.
‘Or maybe my standard is too high…’ He found it darkly amusing that out of all the places he’d visited getting to Torn Sky, the wards personally designed by Kamran or Hasahlain, his architect, were the only enchantments that he’d been impressed by. He’d have thought that coming to the Far East, with its greater wealth and population, that enchantment work would’ve been better everywhere, and not just in the capital city of one of the most powerful mages in the universe.
The interior of the safehouse was spartan, with little in the way of furniture or décor aside from a table, some chairs, and a sofa in one room. Most of the other rooms were completely empty, aside from a reasonably well-stocked kitchen.
“Hardly comfortable,” Tion Bey said, “but you didn’t say you needed it for long.”
“If all ends well, we’ll be gone by the end of the day,” Justin stated.
“And how confident are you that everything will go well?”
Justin didn’t answer verbally, but his pointed stare could’ve cut through a inch-thick steel plate.
“It seems to me,” Tion continued, “that I’ve taken a bigger risk than I thought initially. In truth, if I had known the city’s gates were going to be locked down, I wouldn’t have agreed to this.”
“And yet, you did,” Justin threw back.
“Yes,” the other man conceded with a half-smile. “And I know that you are a man of your word…” His tone shifted, leading somewhere that Leon couldn’t follow, but he could hazard a guess or two.
Sure enough, Justin waved his hand, conjuring a large chest on the table. The wooden legs creaked from the sudden weight, and they were hardly thin or old or otherwise prone to creaking. Leon even saw the thick table sag slightly from what it now bore.
Tion Bey’s smile widened as he strutted over, heedless of the looks the others were giving him, and opened the chest. Glimmering light shone from within, and his smile finally turned genuine. He shut the chest and drew it back into his soul realm.
“I hope all of you are being paid at least this well,” the guard commander stated.
“Don’t try and loosen their resolve,” Justin warned. “Or are you suddenly not so eager to leave?”
Tion chuckled darkly, then made for the door. “This place is fully secured for a week. I guarantee nothing more than that.”
Those were his parting words, and Justin let them fade without response. The thick wooden door shut loudly behind Tion Bey, and no one spoke until they watched his carriage arks leave.
“I don’t trust him,” Cassandra immediately stated.
“He has his uses,” Justin said.
Valeria approached her father, a light frown on her disguised face. “The less under his power we are, the happier I’ll be.”
Justin sighed, then all but collapsed into the closest chair. “I couldn’t agree more. But we’ll be through this before the day is done. Ariana will finally be free, and then we can leave this place forever.”
Leon grimly smiled as the others added their voices to the rising chorus decrying Tion Bey and how blatantly untrustworthy he was, but instead of directly participating, he found his thoughts turning to the idea of coming back. For sure, he was unlikely to come back to Torn Sky in the near future, but if he wanted to claim the mantle of Storm King, then confrontation between him and Kamran was inevitable. On top of that, this very city was a mockery of his Clan’s downfall, and the shamelessness of how Kamran reveled in whatever role he played in that downfall added insult to grievous injury.
No, there would be a time when Leon returned to Torn Sky, and he would be bringing a mighty fleet with him. When he was done, this city would be no more…
“Out of curiosity,” he said after noting a brief lull in the anti-Tion Bey discussion, “my Clan’s vault… There hasn’t been any news of its whereabouts, has there?”
Justin blinked at the suddenness of the change in topic, but adapted quickly. “No,” he answered. “Basileus Aeschylus still holds it for Kamran, and he is still unable to get the thing open—at least, as far as I’m aware. Though, I imagine that if the vault were opened, then Kamran would be wearing your Clan’s ancient crown for all to see. He’s rumored to already possess at least two Universe Fragments, but neither are so helpful in direct combat, to my understanding. But if he were to possess the Storm Diamond within that old crown, then the Storm Lands would be his if only he were to extend his hand and take it.”
Leon’s heart thumped at that statement. The Iron Needle was but one of the two Universe Fragments his Clan had possessed, and the second, the Storm Diamond, had been left behind in the Clan vault when Jason Keraunos launched his campaign into the Divine Graveyard. The strength of the Iron Needle, at this point, Leon knew well, but the Thunderbird had promised much should he gain the Storm Diamond—complete mastery over the weather, able to conjure storms that could swallow entire planes, or to bring them life if he were in a less destructive mood. Some of that power was already his thanks to the Storm Diamond’s power bleeding into the Thunderbird’s Inherited Bloodline, but having the Universe Fragment itself would greatly increase his power.
‘Not to mention the message it will send once that crown is on my head,’ he thought. Smirking, he added, ‘Might even get me to start wearing crowns…’
That was a low chance of happening, but the Storm Diamond would surely be a powerful argument in its favor.
Any further thoughts were cut off as another carriage ark arrived just outside the safehouse. It came alone, and when the door opened, only a single portly middle-aged man stepped out before hurrying to the door and softly knocking.
Justin used his elementless power to pull the door open, and the new arrival dashed inside, almost frantically pushing the door shut behind him.
“Maemon,” Justin said, “you look like the whole Kingdom of Primal Devils is after you; there’s no need to be so rushed, is there?”
“Justin…?” Maemon asked, his voice nasally and uncertain. He only relaxed a modicum when Justin lowered his disguise, revealing himself for Maemon to see properly. “Keep that mask on,” Maemon insisted after a moment, and Justin did just that, letting his familiar features fade behind the face of someone so painfully generic that anyone who saw him would immediately forget about him the moment he was out of their sight.
“Has anything changed?” Justin asked, worry rising in every syllable.
“The guard has been doubled,” Maemon stated. “And the contingent of Storm Slayers that Kamran left behind to secure his home has been deployed in full force. A dozen Lords are already in the palace with all their attendants, and two hundred more are in the city. Justin… old friend… there are rumors in the palace. Some speak of new alliances, others believe that city regent Dionysias is expecting some kind of trouble… Others say that Dionysias might be making some kind of play, handing the city over to someone else in exchange for greater wealth and power.”
A disbelieving scoff exploded from Justin’s mouth with the same force that Leon would use to strike an enemy formation. “Dionysias?” Justin coughed. “Rebel? Against Kamran?”
“I didn’t believe that one,” Maemon said, “but I can feel that things are happening above my station. My friend… you have waited so long already; what is one more year?”
“Ariana will be freed tonight,” Justin vowed. “I’ve already waited decades since Hasahlain’s capture. Every year that goes by is another year that my information grows outdated. It’s another year for Kamran’s war to end, for the man himself to return and take Ariana away. We’re here now, and we have our plan.”
“Under these circumstances…” Maemon hesitantly whispered, “… bringing you to the palace will be… eh… difficult? Even under the guise of bringing tribute for the festival, there will be intense scrutiny. Your disguise is impressive, but Kamran is a master of enchantments. How much will your disguise hold up in his palace?”
“Repeating old arguments will get us nowhere,” Justin grumbled. His head turned for a moment, allowing him to gaze out the nearest window where Kamran’s palace could be seen floating in the sky.
“The arguments are repeated because I have not heard compelling counters to them,” Maemon said. “And given I will be risking myself to help you, I would like some assurances that you won’t immediately be revealed the moment we cross the palace’s threashold…”
“We’re not breaking into Kamran’s personal vaults,” Justin stated.
“But you are still breaking into one of the most heavily defended parts of the entire palace,” Maemon protested. He paused a moment, considering what Justin had just said a little more closely. “I also wasn’t recommending that we break into the vaults; I am not so desperate for treasures that I would covet the wealth of an Anax…”
Smiling, Justin replied, “I know you weren’t, but I was pointing out that what we’re doing in the palace is limited in scope and completely unexpected. If someone breaks into an Anax’s palace, they’re either trying to kill that particular Lord, or they’re trying to steal from them. Ariana hasn’t been a public figure for centuries at this point. No one is expecting a jailbreak. We’ll be gone before they realize their mistake.”
Conflict raged on Maemon’s face, and Leon couldn’t blame him for his hesitancy. Given this year’s festival seemed to be changing unexpectedly even for him, who apparently held a fairly prominent role in palace affairs, it didn’t surprise him that Maemon’s nerve was faltering.
“That still doesn’t answer my concerns about anyone recognizing you,” Maemon complained.
Justin sighed and slouched somewhat in his chair. “And we can’t. These enchantments were made to bypass Kamran’s defenses, but this will be the time they’re put to the test.” He seemed like he had more to say, but in a moment when he paused to weigh his next words, Leon thought to add his own voice to the discussion even if Maemon might not value it as highly than he would if he knew who Leon was.
“The disguises will hold,” Leon said definitively, locked eyes with Maemon and silently daring him to argue. “They were made by expert hands who had information on Kamran’s wards, courtesy of Hasahlain. That won’t be the hard part.”
Maemon stared at him, visibly pondering whether or not he should be upset or not at Leon’s interruption. Leon, after all, was disguised, and Maemon’s eighth-tier power was higher than Leon’s masked aura.
“Maemon,” Justin whispered, pulling Maemon’s attention back to him, “are you backing out? I will not blame you if you do; you agreed under certain circumstances, and those circumstances are now changing. If you believe you ever had any, then I absolve you of any duty you feel to aid me.”
His face still contorted with indecision, Maemon hissed, “… Yes, I’m with you. I was just hoping that you could have alleviated my fears a bit more…”
“Apologies,” Justin replied. “What we’re doing is dangerous. I cannot in good conscience promise the stars. But we’re ready, and we’re skilled.”
“I’m sure you are,” Maemon said as he glanced around the room, apparently finally truly seeing the rest of the party. If he liked what he saw or not, Leon couldn’t tell as the man immediately washed away any fear on his face in favor of determination. “Then we’ll proceed. Locals, as well as those who made it into the city before the gates shut, will be allowed to present their tributes starting in several hours. That’s how long we have to get ready.”
“And,” Justin added, “we still have other friends to call on, if needed. Weinin. Graly.”
“Weinin doesn’t move for anything less than enough khosrids to buy a small war ark,” Maemon said dismissively. “And Graly couldn’t find his own ass despite how far up it his head has been stuck.”
“They have their uses,” Justin said.
“I’m worried enough about this; let us not bring such… unstable elements into it…”
It took another moment of thought, but Justin eventually nodded.
Once that part was done, Maemon and Justin went over the plan for everyone’s benefit. Maemon actively refused to learn anyone’s names, though, which made things a little complicated. But he was only giving their group cover to get into the palace, so Leon supposed that he simply didn’t want to learn anything that might wind up being inconvenient.
As Maemon was filling them in on the expected court etiquette with Lord Dionysias and any other Nexus Lord who might be present for giving tribute, Leon noted how often slaves were brought up. It seemed that, for some reason, Kamran used significant slave labor in his palace in both ceremonial and practical roles. He had maintenance golems working in the tunnels keeping his city’s wards active, and was a master enchanter to boot, but those who kept his palace clean were enslaved. He ruled an empire that spanned over an appreciable fraction of the universe, and yet an even more appreciable fraction of his palace was run enslaved scribes and bureaucrats.
Given the population at his beck and call and the skills he had to potential automate more laborious tasks, Leon couldn’t imagine why he would delegate either low-skill or important palace positions to those in chains. He imagined that such people might not be eager to serve, but he also supposed that it could depend on treatment and potential personal advancement available to any given slave.
Before he knew it, he’d found himself contemplating just how Kamran’s bureaucracy was run and he’d missed quite a few exchanges that Justin had with Maemon. Nothing particularly important, it seemed, but Leon forced himself to refocus—this operation was much too important, both personally and politically, to treat so flippantly.
And in just a few hours, it would begin in earnest. They were now in the city, and while it had taken a detour, he couldn’t say that it had been all that hard. That, he thought, was sure to change once they were in the palace, no matter how confident Justin was that those secret tunnels could get them to where they wanted to go unseen.
But that wasn’t going to stop him. For Valeria, he would burn this whole damned palace to the ground, and then laugh in Kamran’s face when confronted. He supposed, then, that it was fortunate for him and his future that she hadn’t asked him to do so…
… but he also supposed that there was yet time left in the day, and that could always change…
---
The palace loomed over them, practically gleaming in the light of the Origin Spark. The size of a city, floating above dark storm clouds lit from within by flickering lightning, with more than a hundred towers and a thousand halls. And at the palace’s center was the tallest tower, at the top of which was the woman they had come to the city to free.
‘This will be a great story someday,’ Leon thought. ‘Even greater once the bards hear of it…’
He observed the city from within Maemon’s carriage ark, Valeria and Cassandra once again on either side of him while Maemon and Justin sat across the cabin from him, both quiet and contemplative. These were the last minutes when the operation could be called off, but neither said a word.
Neither did Leon hear any complaints or requests to back out from the rest of the party, though they were in another carriage ark, so hearing them might a bit complicated. Regardless, he wasn’t backing out, and neither were his people. And as the temple-like access point for the palace drew closer, the time for that was rapidly slipping through their fingers.
And then all of that time was over. The carriages stopped at the foot of the steps leading up to the marble portico, behind which was a long rectangular building. In the past few hours, Leon had twice seen strands of Lumenite connecting the building to an outer fortified hall on the floating palace, which made it clear how they were reaching the palace.
It was a gross waste of good Lumenite as far as he was concerned—there were much simpler magical ways to get up and down from a floating palace, as he well knew, and given Kamran’s skill in enchanting, he knew the man could’ve come up with something else—but if nothing else, he figured it showed Kamran’s wealth well if he was willing to use his Lumenite so wastefully.
The portico was under heavy guard, with eight thickly armored warriors securing the gate, their armor shining over dark red padding. Their helmets completely obscured their faces, but Leon could feel their eyes watching his party as their carriages stopped in front of them.
“This is it,” Maemon said. “We either turn back now, or we begin in earnest.”
Without hesitation, Justin opened the carriage ark’s door and stepped out into the Origin Spark’s light. Valeria was next, following without hesitation, and after her went Leon and Cassandra. They weren’t backing out.
It was time to properly infiltrate Kamran’s palace.
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