Ulterior Motives

Knowledge as Currency

The bittersweet beginnings of a mystery. With a tempting partner like Oliver what could possibly go wrong.

Oh, I don't know, maybe the end of the world, maybe war. Better yet, who done it? Who would be brave enough to steal from a brotherhood of Warlocks?

Happy Reading.

Love
NJ Kuhr
XOXO

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"Yes, I do." Reagan smiled playfully but there was truth in her answer too. "That to me is more valuable than money. But those don't count as my questions." She pointed her finger at him.

    "As I said before, it doesn't count." Oliver liked Reagan more and more. She had gone back to browsing through the manuscripts. "As it seems I have to inform you of what answers I will have to erase beforehand, you have to acknowledge in advance the replacement questions."

    Reagan shrugged. "That's practical." Looking back up at Oliver she closed the book she was reading and set it down in her lap. "So here's my first concession."

    Oliver crossed his arms waiting with a crooked grin. "Wait." He sat up as something had just occurred to him, stopping her before the words were out of her mouth. "I get veto power on the questions. If it's not something I am at liberty to tell you than I can decline and you get another question. So for example, you cannot ask me what the object is again and count that as your replacement question. Also, you can't keep a record of the borrowed information, like a ledger or a diary to return to after I remove the information from your consciousness."

    Reagan tried not to smile. "Am I that transparent?" Her eyes brightened a little at him figuring out those loop holes so quickly. It was beginning to turn into a sort of game, each of them seeing if the other can deduce the answers with only hints and clues. Both of them equally thrilled to have a worthy opponent.

    "The mischievous look on your face gave it away."  He settled back down into the chair. They really were quite comfortable. "You would be horrible at poker."

    "Fine." She consented ignoring the last remark. "When were you born?"

    That wiped the smug look off his face. He felt the air leave his lungs. He had been waiting for some witty off the wall question. She titled her head to the side, grinning. She had caught him off guard. Reagan one, Oliver zero.

    "I've wanted to ask since I opened the door and made you for a Warlock but didn't think you would tell me the truth." She turned back to the book in her lap. "That and it would be kind of rude but since I can ask anything."

    Oliver sat there for a second. He hadn't considered that she might ask him personal questions. When was he born? That's specific, not how old was he? That's something he could answer easily enough without giving anything away. He could just tell her twenty-seven sense that was technically true but she was smart wording it so he'd have to give specifics.

    He was a Warlock in the inner Circle of the Clave. He hadn't been treated like a person with a past since the first few decades of his existence. He hadn't looked at the other Warlocks in the same way for hundreds of years either. They all had histories, childhoods. He couldn't recall when the last time he had even thought of his own childhood. He did remember his childhood, Warlocks didn't forget anything, just become consumed with other matters. The Society was so secretive and private that they quickly forget their own secrets.

    Reagan didn't pressure him to answer but continued looking for whatever it was she was trying to find.

    "I was born," Oliver was barely speaking but Reagan had stopped turning pages to listen. "I was born on the pontiff during the month of October in the year 286 ad."