Book 6. Chapter 28 |
A few days later, Brin found himself at Coster’s Club for Gentlemen playing Frenaria’s version of tennis with Sion, played with a hard ball and clubs rather than rackets and with metal gongs that could give an extra point. Apparently, Sion had spent most of his week here, playing cards and Jagosi, exercising in their excellent facilities, and chumming it up with Steamshield’s up and comers. He’d also eaten every meal at their dining hall, and he’d spent a good deal of the morning complaining about the overly rich and complicated meals.
Apparently, the city’s corporate overlords had closed ranks to stonewall him from expanding his family’s business in Steamshield, so his goal was to hang out and form networks with their idle, layabout sons. Brin was pleased to hear that Hogg had already contacted Sion to integrate him into some of his business ventures, and Hogg had even been responsible for getting him into the club. Apparently, he’d gone so far as to alter the vote of the three members who’d tried to blackall Sion.
Sion served and batted the ball straight into Brin’s gong. It was embarrassing how many times he was able to do that. Normally that was something you could only do after a bit of lead up, but Sion had been diligently levelling his [Running] Skill to something truly remarkable, and Brin was still suffering from his Vitality weakness.
“So what did you do?”
“Well, you couldn’t blame me if I’d gained something of a fascination with Bia’s thighs, since she’s one of the only girls at the school who regularly wears the type of clothing to show them off. And let me tell you, it was everything I ever dreamed of. When she told me to–”
Sion ruthlessly slammed the ball into the gong again. “I don’t want to hear about Bia’s thighs. What did you do about your bones?”
Marksi pounced on the ball and then rolled it back to Sion. He was pretty good at catching, but he couldn’t really throw.
“Oh, yeah, well, she came back with a specialist. Julia the [Bone Mage]. Most of the breaks were in the arms, but I also broke an ankle by moving too fast, and I broke a rib, I guess from flexing too hard. That last one is a bit frustrating, to be honest. They chased Bia and everyone else away, and then she did surgery right there on the park bench.” Brin shivered at the memory, and nearly missed Sion’s serve. He returned this one, but then missed the followup shot where Sion drove it straight into a corner.
The procedure had been quick and painful. Brin liked to think he had a high pain tolerance, but the reality was that it was usually just the adrenaline numbing things. Letting a crazy old woman cut rents straight through his skin to expose his broken bones, stone sober and at rest, was an extreme test of will. The System had thought so, too, actually.
Will +1
She hadn't even thought to offer painkillers, even though Brin knew they existed. The worst part had been when she’d removed a whole half-inch thick square of bone out of his thigh, just so that she’d be able to grow a bunch more of it in a lab. She'd plucked it straight out with her Skills and healed it over again before he could scream, though he had still screamed.
Brin was too manly to complain about a little pain, so he said, “The worst part was the lecture. Julia had this whole big spiel about how I shouldn’t cover my bones in glass, even though I practically have a Skill for it.”
“Why not? Don’t misunderstand, the very thought of it is insane. Who would do such a thing? But also, why not? The extra reinforcement sounds like it would be valuable,” said Sion. He served Brin a slower ball, which he returned, and allowed a bit of a volley before slamming the ball into Brin’s gong again.
“Yeah, the short version is that bones are alive, so if you cover them up they’ll starve or suffocate or something. Apparently she has to catch [Earth Mages] the minute they gain any metal shaping abilities, because they’ll always try to coat their bones in steel,” said Brin.
“There, you see? Now we know why it’s insane. Ironic, how often deep wisdom loops back around to common sense. Don’t look so disappointed, Rhun,” said Sion.
Rhun was in his armor, guarding the door. Brin had already offered to let him play, but apparently the two of them had played so many games against each other that they were both eager for a new partner. “I’m not disappointed.”
“You have armor on your outside. You don’t need it on your insides,” said Sion.
“I’m not disappointed! I don’t go around breaking my bones all the time. I’m not Brin,” said Rhun.
“You’ve seriously never broken a bone?” Brin asked, appalled. How had he gotten through Canibri, or better yet Arcaena without… “No, hold on. That’s not true. Zaff broke several of your bones. And you broke your nose sparring once or twice.”
“Noses don’t count. Neither do level 70 Wights,” said Rhun.
“Yeah, well, anyway, Julia had a bit to say about that, too. How I break too many bones, I mean. Apparently scarring on the bones is a bad thing. They're more fragile than they should be, and I guess there's been some uneven growth. She wants to regrow a lot of my bones using the sample she took and then replace them. She swears that the losses to [Scarred, but Healing] from my bone scars going away will be more than worth it. Lumina seems to think it’s a good idea, too. Sancta Solia, maybe I really should take [Pain Resistance] before then,” said Brin, trying and failing to respond to any of Sion’s serves.
"Don't waste the point. There are drugs for these things," said Sion.
He’d thought this would be useful to train moving around in his Vitality-stricken body without hurting himself, and he still thought that, but it was getting kind of frustrating to lose this badly. “She’s mad at me, by the way. Lumina.”
Sion shook his head. “How could she be anything other than upset to see you hurt yourself so, when we all thought you were growing out of such habits? And I assume she is not the only one upset. How does this Sancha act now that she's seen a rival take the upper hand?”
“She’s being surprisingly normal about it,” said Brin. "Everyone is being surprisingly normal about it. They still follow me around in bunches, fawning over everything I say and giggling at all my jokes..."
"Oh, my friend, truly of the trial of all trials. How do you cope with a life of such suffering?" asked Sion.
Stolen story; please report.
"Did I sound like I was complaining? It's great. Being popular is awesome. And even though they all act like that when everyone's together, I don't know if anyone is actually serious about it. Two times, a girl approached me alone and my heart about stopped because I was going to have to figure out how to let them down gently, but both times they just wanted me to beat up Guoncal."
"The [Bug Mage]?" asked Sion.
"He advanced to [Mage of Creeping Things] on initiation day. Yeah, the first girl had a bug fly into her hair during class, and the second thought a yellow beetle was watching her bathe. They both blame Guoncal," said Brin.
Sion laughed. "Is he to take responsibility for the actions of every insect?"
"Looks like, yeah. Oh, by the way, there's going to be a midsummer ball. From what I can tell it's a formal dance, with real [Bards], [Illusionist] shows, and we're supposed to make flower crowns. You and Rhun should come," said Brin.
Sion gave a slow grin, as if the invitation was forcing him to redo a lot of mental calculations and he was seeing them come out in his favor.
Rhun said, "Sion should go. I doubt the lords and ladies of the realm would wish to see a simple bodyguard among their number."
Brin was so stunned that he didn't move as Sion's ball went whizzing past his head--it definitely wasn't the case that he was too slow to stop it.
"Sir Rhun!" Sion snapped. "Please do not forget that you are Sir Rhun. You will be the social equal of half the students there. I appreciate this newfound humility, I truly do, but please do not abandon your national pride completely."
Rhun stood up straighter. "Sir."
"Ah, and other than you, who here is a 'sir'? It's all so vexing," said Sion. He put his head down in dismay, but still easily caught Brin's return show and turned it around for another goal.
"Ok. This is getting ridiculous. Marksi, get in here. You're on my team."
Marksi chirped in glee and then rushed into the middle of the court.
"Oh, no, my dear Marksi, how could I possibly play to my fullest when you are my opponent? Your charm and elegance will surely blind me to--" Sion suddenly served in the middle of his own monologue, trying to catch them off guard.
Marksi didn't have a club. Instead, he leapt into the air and whacked the ball with his tail, sending it spinning at a curved angle. For the first time since they'd arrived, Sion missed his swing and the ball flew past for a goal.
"That's 1-0," said Brin, completely ignoring the seventy or so points that Sion had taken before this.
The following match was furiously competitive. Marksi had the speed and precision to let him follow the ball into every tricky situation he could dream up. He didn't quite have the power necessary to really drill it back, though, and once Sion got the hang of his curve balls began returning them with pounding force that sometimes Marksi couldn't even keep up with. Brin was satisfied to say that he wasn't completely worthless, because he could take one side of the court and give Marksi a smaller area to defend.
At the end they were all panting and sweating, Marksi most tired of all. But he was also triumphant. "22-20!" Brin announced.
A servant appeared with damp towels on a tray, and Sion took one to begin wiping off the sweat. "You both played magnificently! Truly, I am humbled and challenged by such a display of Skill. Can any mortal man challenge the greatness of dragons? Surely not! And Brin, I must say I am impressed by how you can bring such skill to bear, knowing the challenge of your affliction. I--"
Brin laughed, taking a towel of his own. "I thought we were done buttering each-other up for the day. If we just kept it going like this, we'd never get anything done."
"Who's buttering anyone up? Marksi, was there anything I said that wasn't the most plain of truths?" asked Sion.
Marksi considered. While the things he'd said about the greatness of dragons was simple fact, maybe gushing about Brin's skill was a little much.
"And I am the lowest of [Rogues]. A true ingrate, because after all you've done for me, I still have in my mind further favors to ask, which I certainly would never be so bold as to presume to take more advantage of your great generosity," said Sion.
Brin grinned and resigned himself to playing the part. "Generous? When was I ever generous with you? I know there's no counting favors between friends, but you've done so much for me and I've returned your kindness so little that my heart attempts to split itself into two. I'm losing sleep over it! Marksi, tell him how much sleep I've lost."
Marksi nodded. Brin really had been losing sleep, but that was because he'd been staying up late reading ahead in all his textbooks and playing around with glass.
"What impossibilities! What [Illusionist] has blinded your eyes, that you cannot see--"
"Oh, just tell him what you want," said Rhun.
"Very well," Sion said. "I want to get into the iron industry. Hogg's golems are clever, but even from first glance one can plainly see that Steamshield has iron in its bones, in a way your [Earth Mages] can only dream of. I wish to dominate the industry here, and bring it home to Prinnash when I'm done. For that I'll need connections, and I'll need talent. Can you give me a list of names, priorities for who I should seek out when I attend this midsummer dance?"
Could he? He'd never been an expert at the networking game. He nodded. "Is that all?"
"It's already too much!" said Sion. "[Fire Mages] in search of non-combat opportunities. Students who already have a hand in their families businesses, and any talented [Mages] who are in need of sponsorship."
“Consider it done. I have a name right now: Ares the [Mage of Sparks]. Pretty talented, very poor,” said Brin.
“I’ll look him up. By the way, do you think I should learn High Frenarian?”
“You don’t already know?” asked Brin.
“Why should I?” asked Sion.
“I don’t know. You just seem to know everything?”
Sion snorted. “Didn’t you just insist that we should move past the baseless flattery?”
“I raise my hand to Solia, Sion, I didn’t even mean that as flattery.”
Sion and Rhun met each other’s eyes and laughed. Sion said, “And what, pray tell, is your hand going to do to poor, poor Solia?”
Brin cut himself off from upbraiding them for irreverence, and then from cursing himself for being the weird churchy kid again. He changed the subject. "Hey, do you need to know which families own the biggest iron businesses?"
"My family's contacts haven't been completely worthless in that regard. I'll handle that side of things," said Sion, and handed over a list with three names on it.
"Oh, Steamshield First Ironworks is managed by the Second Prince, huh? That's not a tall order at all," said Brin.
"Like I said, I'll manage this part," said Sion.
"You might be able to meet his daughter at the party. This second name, Dioguo. He's firmly in the Cobol camp," said Brin.
"And don't I know it," said Sion.
"That leaves this last name. Loys Vargas," said Brin.
"Don't trouble yourself with that! He's twenty years her elder, but he's the first cousin of your friend Gyromia. You might see him in the Circle of Earth," said Sion.
"I'll work on that first thing next week," said Brin.
"Then what do you have going on for the rest of your weekend?" asked Sion.
"Magic training, I think. I've been drastically neglecting practicing with my new Fire element and my [Transmute to Glass] Skill."
"Ah, sounds like you're busy."
"Not that busy."
They hit the sauna next, and then got massages. After that was a late lunch, but the club's dining hall kept bringing out course after course, which left Brin lingering until late lunch became regular-hour dinner. Marksi quickly ate his fill on the first course, a sweet and sour fish, and then fell asleep on his chair. It never ceased to astound Brin how quickly people here seemed to accept Marksi’s presence–there was a very clear “no pets” sign on the club’s wall, but as soon as Brin announced that Marksi was a dragon, it opened all doors. Sion contented himself with bread and water and seemed happy to have someone else along to bear the brunt of the server's attention. It wasn't until after Brin had eaten three cupcakes that Sion revealed he had yet another bomb to drop.
"These clubs you know, they're rife with cliques and factions. There's nothing that bored rich people love more than being part of an in-group."
"You don't say."
"Yes. There are all sorts of clubs."
"Sounds fun."
"Cabals, even. Cadres."
"Indeed?"
"Yes. I might even go so far as to say... conspiracies."
"Conspiracies to do what?"
"To conspire. In secret societies."
"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Brin asked, and put down the fourth cupcake he'd been considering.
"Yes. I found the Cult of Tenerer."