The Language Of The Trees/ An Evalyce Novel [#NaNoWriMo16]

Chapter 13: Deception

Baddara, Rang'moori, Evalyce, Year of the Lion Claw, 1727 CE

    Nightfall found us approaching the city of Baddara, a Rang'moori city that sported a sizable skyport. I had drifted to sleep, lulled by the soothing sound of the ship's engines, and woke to Ari requesting permission to land.

    "What are we doing in Rang'moori, Ari?" My husband had neglected to share his plans with me earlier. Ari chuckled as I followed the question with a jaw-cracking yawn.

    "The ship needs to be converted to artificery grids." He patted the console fondly. "It will be easier for us if we shed all ties to technomancy. Inconvenient, but necessary."

    Ari snugged the ship into the berth he'd been assigned with a grace that spoke of years at a ship's controls. Rogys was our usual  transport when we went aloft. I hadn't a clue Ari could fly a ship til today.

    "Any special needs, sir?" the attendant asked as we exited.

    "As a matter of fact, yes. We need the grids converted to artifice." Ari slapped the side of the ship in a jovial manner. "Won the old girl in an Argosian auction, but I've not much use for technomancy, as it were. Easier to find a good Artificer. I also have some design changes I’d like to have made."

    Ari handed the man a slender tube. The attendant unfurled the schematics inside, humming slightly as he looked them over.

    "Shouldn't be a problem, sir.” He rolled the papers up, tucking them back in the tube.

   It was hardly the same ship when the skyport’s Artificers were done several days later. At first blush, she looked like a relic from a bygone age, ready for scrap reclamation. It was a clever façade. Inside, she was now kitted out with the latest Artificery weapons, new power grids, and an engine designed to handle them. Her name was Deception, and she was beautiful.

    A day's travel brought us to Galta, in Kymru. Galta was a quaint place, quiet and sleepy. Bricked houses lined cobblestone roads. It was an unremarkable place altogether. Galta lay off main trade routes, but happened to lie in the middle of several major Kymry cities, and two Argosian mining enclaves. The only thing preventing it from being a major hub of activity was the nearby trade centre of Bannockspar.

    We ambled down the street, pausing to peruse wares for sell, and bought a pair of meat dumplings from a street vendor.

    “ Ari… what are we doing here?” I asked around a mouthful, as we sat on a bench to eat.

    “Seeking answers, callowayla.”

    “In the middle of nowhere?” I had expected Ari to head to Jericho, or possibly Ouphatoril.

    “Now Mai, haven't you yet learned that answers can be found in the most unlikely of places?”

    I gave an undignified snort as I finished my lunch. We resumed our wandering, until Ari finally ducked into a building.

    The Wayward Traveller looked no more remarkable than any other shop we’d passed. Inside was stuffed with books and curios. I glanced at titles as we threaded our way to a back counter. The ones I could read were historical writings. Many were in languages I couldn't make out.

    A man slipped from a back office to greet us.

    “Aft’t noon, gent. Lady.”  He gave a deferential nod to us. “How can I ‘elp ye?”

    “A wayward traveller is lost and seeks guidance,” Ari murmured.

    “The wayward are always welcome. Come, let us see what we ‘ave to ‘elp ye.” He gestured for us to follow.

    The first thing I noticed as we passed through the heavy curtain that served as the office door was the slight tang in the air I had come to associate with Technomancers and our active mage metals within.

    “Addy, we ‘ave a few travellers needin ta find their way,” our guide said as he rounded a corner.

    There, inside a small workroom, a leonine man with sandy curls glanced up. He had been bent over a weathered, time-worn map, painted upon vykyr leather. A filter lens made his right eye look huge and distorted. He stood, pushing the lens up on his head.

    “Welcome! Addison March. How may I help you today, travellers?” the man asked.

    Turns out, Addison was a Waykeeper, a Quaestor who lived in one location, collecting information from the region, and providing assistance to Quaestors out on missions.

     “Arius.” Ari laid a hand in my shoulder. “And this is Maia.

     “We are looking to head to Jericho, Master March, and wish to know what winds are favourable.”

    Addison cocked his head to one side, a curiously birdlike gesture.

    “Ill winds buffet Jericho. There's a lion hunt on.”

    “Dangerous game,” Ari said. “Who sponsored the hunt?”

    “Dangerous game indeed. The winds are silent on the leash holder, but the hounds are whipped to frenzy. The prize is sizable. Little birds sing, though, of a man looking to add a machakti pelt to his exotic collection. The pelt of a particular nuisance.”

    “Perhaps we’ll join the hunt.”

    “Bold, Master Arius, bold indeed.”

    Ari nodded, smiling grimly. He passed a paper over to Addison.

    “We have need of supplies as well.”

     Addison glanced at the list, then folded it and tucked it into his vest pocket.”

    “Easy enough, sir. We can have it delivered today.”

    “Dos mere, Master Addison.”

    “Wind beneath your wings,” Addison replied.

    When we left Galta, no longer were we Ari and Mai, but Dale and Jaelil Garrett, a husband and wife team, late of the Ne Rameridean army. We were bound now for Jericho, with the goal of insinuating ourselves into one of the city’s many mercenary guilds. Our papers were good, the new identities given credibility by the Waykeeper’s efforts.

    Ari's new guise was a matter of thought to achieve. Mine took a bit more work. It took three tries to darken my skin to the rich sepia tones characteristic of the Ne Ramerideans. My dark hair was darkened further, and delicate mage-metal work turned my eyes grey-green. I finally consented to allow Ari to fix my eyesight, making the specs no longer necessary.

    Through it all, Addison grilled us on our new personas. I shed layers of ‘Mai’, and wrapped myself in layers of ‘Jaelil’. Her hopes and dreams, her past and present, they became mine. It was an immersion training I was quite familiar with.