Book 6. Chapter 37 |
Brin decided to spend some time in the great hall in the Tower entrance, thinking it would be nice to study in the vast, quiet space covered in religious imagery. He was really dreading going through the safety manual for the Earth Track, but he wasn't going to procrastinate! The sooner he got started, the sooner he'd--
Brin had hardly sat down before he stood up again. He’d had a few Invisible Eyes out there looking for Bia, and they hadn’t found her, just a lot of people talking about her. They’d found someone else, though. Iola, the baron’s daughter from Oud’s Bog. Clearly, he needed to go talk to her right now.
She was crossing the atrium at present, so he carefully made his way around to another entrance. He didn't want to risk turning invisible or using Mirror Images, not someplace as crowded as the atrium, but Hogg had taught him more about stealth than mere invisibility. He could see her and he could tell which way she was looking, and that was all he needed.
He stayed out of her sight lines until right at the last moment, and when she turned around a plantscape she nearly bumped into him.
Two years had matured her just as much as him, and she wore a tight yellow dress, much more form-fitting than the one she'd worn to dinner with him back then. Her Class was [Student of Beasts] now, though she'd kept her high level so it wasn't from a reset. She was being escorted by a [Mage of Thorns] named Domingo. He was six years her elder, and had a jagged scar crossing his eye, from his hairline all the way down to nearly touch his mouth.
"Iola! What a surprise! No one told me you were here in the Tower!"
Iola jumped in surprise, eyes wide. She shifted, as if instinctively trying to turn away before accepting that there was no chance she could pretend she hadn't seen him. She put a hand to her chest, as if to slow her racing heart.
Brin moved his eyes towards her friend. "And who's this? Wicked scar, my friend." Then Brin let his grin drop, winced, and put a knuckle to his mouth.
"Oh, what's wrong?" asked Iola.
Domingo drew himself up and frowned, though his words were genteel. "I thank thee. I esteem it a great honor to make thy acquaintance, Lord Mistaken--"
Iola put a hand on his bicep. In addition to having a cooler scar, this guy also might have been a bit more muscular than Brin. That was hardly Brin's fault; his muscles were all stretched out after his growth spurt. He tried not to think about how Domingo was taller than him, too.
"Practice your common," said Iola.
"Very well. It's... swell to meet you, Lor--"
"Call me Brin."
"Brin. Iola told me many things about you, and has been very keen to see you again," finished Domingo.
"That's sweet of her. You know, we met at a very difficult time in my life, and she and her father were very kind to me despite all the trouble I caused them. I'll never forget that," said Brin.
For some reason, this assurance seemed to make them both even more tense, as if worried he might jump forward and bite them.
Iola took a deep breath, then straightened her back. "There's something you should know."
"Why? What's wrong?" Brin scanned as well as he could, but his Invisible Eyes didn't see any kind of danger in the area.
"Nothing's wrong. The opposite! I... am engaged to Domingo. To be married. To him," said Iola.
Wait, wasn't that obvious? To cover his confusion, Brin put a look of delighted surprise on his face. "Oh! How wonderful. Congratulations, you two!"
“You mustn't be discouraged!" Iola said quickly. "I know you'll find someone else. Someone who fits you as well as I fit Domingo. This is for the best; you'll see. Please, please don't be upset."
"Iola, I..." Brin tried to find the words to explain that he really wasn't upset, but how was he supposed to say that without being rude? He’d be making it clear that he'd never wanted to marry her in the first place.
Iola leaned forward as if to step towards him, but then refrained and stayed with Domingo. "And you mustn't think you did anything wrong!"
"I mean, I did sort of insult your favorite instrument and tell a dirty joke about skeletons on a rooftop," said Brin.
"Yes, but you were the first to not make the same old innuendo... you know, about my previous [Rider] Class." Iola half-whispered the last bit, smiling as if she’d said something subversive. Domingo's eyes went wide in surprise, and a half-grin slipped through the glares he was throwing at Brin.
“Do guys really do that?” asked Brin.
“You’d be surprised at the things these so-called gentlemen will do or say as soon as they think they have you cornered,” said Iola. “Not you, though, and not my Domingo.”
"Too obvious. I never pluck the low-hanging fruit," said Brin.
"That's exactly what I mean. You need someone you have to reach for. And... I'll help you. We both will. Right, Dommy?"
"Er... yes. Yes of course! I am quite at your convenience," said Domingo.
Brin laughed and shook his head. "No, guys, please, I don't need help finding girls. I'm really trying to focus on my studies right now, and I want to establish myself in the world a little before... you know…”
“You mustn’t give up!” said Iola.
“I’m fine, really,” said Brin. He kind of wished he had a way to prove to them that he wasn’t going to try to steal Iola away from Domingo. Well, there was one way. “Maybe you can help me with something else that’s been on my mind. Have either of you heard anything about Bia of Guven?"
Iola put a hand to her mouth, not quite covering a grin. “Oh!”
Brin shook his head. “No, no, it’s nothing like that. And besides, our families are totally enemies. It would never work. I’m just trying to gather information… for the cause.”
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“My cousin doth close converse with her young brother. Does close converse, I mean,” said Domingo, suddenly all smiles. “I’m sure I might discern what stirs her fancy.”
“And I know where she is now!” said Iola. “Come!”
She kept her hands at her side, flexing her fingers, until Domingo took one of her hands and followed her lead across the atrium. Brin took up a position on the other side.
“Oh, and where is Marksi, by the by?” asked Iola.
Brin shrugged. “He’s around here somewhere. He’s a sensitive little thing, you know. Come out, Marksi. No one is going to be mad at each other!”
Marksi lost his camouflage and then jumped down from a nearby fountain where he’d been mimicking a gargoyle. He shook off the water and strutted forward, bold as can be, to prove that he definitely hadn’t been hiding or anything.
Iola bent down to give him some scritches, and Domingo awkwardly gave him a pat.
Domingo cleared his throat and began walking again. “She was at the Harvest End Ball last year before last. I remember that she danced but once. She wore a gown after the party’s fashion, which was rare for her even then. I know she has a mature taste in wines and a stomach for liqueur. Ah, but I mean no offense to the lady. I feel as if I must be misrepresenting her.”
Brin chuckled. “You won’t offend me, Domingo. I know she mostly spent her time in the tavern back at camp during the war. The thing about always wearing pants is a surprise, though. It would be stranger for a [Scout] to not wear them during the war, but I never assumed it was a permanent lifestyle choice on her part.”
“That is why I feel I must be misconstruing her. She does not have the reputation of a scoundrel or a wastrel or anything of the sort. I would think her a dutiful daughter if not for her clothing and Class,” said Domingo.
“You don’t think the way she talks is a little casual for her station?” Brin asked.
“I’ve never had the pleasure,” said Domingo.
Brin asked more about Bia’s family as they walked, but neither of them knew all that much. Domingo’s family holdings were also to the south and so he didn’t know exactly how or why the Guven family was tied so strongly to the Cobols. Brin actually ended up telling them more than they told him, about how she was from near Manabita, which he only knew because Bia herself had told him.
Iola led them into the Circle of Life, and together they walked straight passed all the lines completely unchallenged. They went through the offices like last time, but rather than head toward the underground garden, she took them the other way.
They passed a few offices with people’s names on the door, past an open walkway that looked to lead towards a sparring arena like they had in the Circle of Fire, though much smaller and more flammable. She stopped at a door.
Prof. Machado
Magicks Corporeal
Iola knocked once, and entered after Domingo got the door. A second later stepped back out again, blushing. “Oh, no, dear me, this was a bad idea.”
“What?” Brin slid past her and through the door. The first thing that hit him was a wave of body odor. It was ripe in here. Inside, the room was fairly sparse. A handrail separated the entrance from the polished wooden floor where a group of twenty students were in the middle of working out.
They seemed to be doing a martial arts form. A big man in front, who [Inspected] as Machado and would’ve been called a body-builder in Brin’s old life, would shout a word of Language, and the class would shout it back while throwing a punch or kick. It didn’t seem all that physically intensive, but there must have been Skill work going on to make it harder than it looked, because they were all sweating profusely.
Machado and most of the students were shirtless and glistening. Bia’s shirt was stuck tight to her body like a swimsuit.
He wondered if he should leave, but Machado caught his eye and held up one finger before continuing with his class, and Brin took that to mean it would be ok for him to stay and watch.
The class itself was somewhat captivating, and not just from watching Bia’s form. He could tell that the words of Language were doing something, but not exactly what. There was also a certain mesmerizing weight to the movements themselves. It was familiar, but not. There wasn’t any Wyrd involved; this was Language. They were moving with the Language, maybe? You could write the Language, and you could speak it. Could you also… act it out? Pantomime it? Or maybe they were doing something completely different; he didn’t know.
Whatever they were doing, it was clearly difficult.
Machado called an end to the practice a few minutes after Brin arrived. A flurry of servants arrived to deliver towels and cups of water to the students.
Bia approached Brin while patting her face and neck dry. “So, just come to ogle?”
Brin leaned forward onto the handrail and got his best leer on. “That’s right.”
She smirked. “Lie. Your heart rate just spiked. Why are you really here?”
Brin looked back at Iola and Domingo, both of whom looked like they’d rather be anywhere else. Iola gave a little wave. “Iola is a friend from the Boglands. She and her betrothed have been guiding me around the Life track.”
He reached out and grabbed Bia by the wrist.
She pulled back, not alarmed exactly, but confused. “What are you doing?”
Brin moved two fingers to the front of her wrist. “Checking your pulse. Why did you leave, and why did you come back?”
She laughed and easily pulled her hand out of her grip. “Stop!”
“Not fair! You read my pulse all the time!”
“Oh, yeah, like that’s the complete same.”
In all honesty, Brin didn’t think he would get anything from Bia’s pulse. He hadn’t missed that they were in the Body Magic room. This was the place where you’d go to learn to use the Language to master your body and physical Skills. Bia likely had complete control over her heartrate, as well as anything else Brin could possibly measure.
It was too bad, too, because his Lightmind had a spell for that. There was one called “The Unerring Lie Detector” which he didn’t exactly trust, but he could also call the component spells directly. One measured the heart rate through sound, and another measured eye twitch speed and the temperature of the skin.
“Besides, do you really not already know what I’m going to tell you? Are you really that pathetic as a spy?” asked Bia.
“You’ve been telling everyone that you got a letter saying your brother was sick, and that you returned when you found out it was a false alarm,” said Brin. “I have questions.”
“Well, you can interrogate me all you want, but let me freshen up first,” said Bia, turning away.
Brin followed. “Do you really think I’m going to fall for that?”
Bia grinned and skipped ahead a few steps, and Brin hurried to follow.
Iola came out of nowhere and jumped in front of him. “You shant!”
Brin paused, and noticed that Bia was entering a women’s washroom. He stopped. “Oh. I suppose not.”
Normally this would be where he stopped, because he didn’t want to get in the habit of voyeurism. But Bia was the one lead he had on getting more information about Cobol’s rebellion, and if she received any communication on that, or gave away some clue or sign, it would definitely be when she thought she was alone. He wanted to keep an Invisible Eye on her every minute of the day until she gave something away.
He sent an Invisible Eye in, perfectly ready to dismiss it if he thought he would see something he shouldn’t. The washroom was small, but it had two stalls, one for a toilet, and the other was just a changing stall. He was relieved when Bia chose the changing stall. He could still watch the room without invading her privacy too much.
Not that he needed to have bothered. The room only had the one exit, except for a window leading to the underground garden that was only about eight inches high, probably only for ventilation.
He turned his Invisible Eye away from the door of her stall as he changed, and waited for the sound of her opening the door.
Bia stepped over to the sink and checked her face, turning it side to side, and then fixed her hair. She spent a pretty long time fixing her hair, honestly, a lot longer than he expected for someone with her devil-may-care attitude.
Brin spent the time introducing himself to Machado. The man was perfectly friendly, but made it clear that he didn’t think Brin was the right fit for his particular brand of magic, and that maybe he could check back next year or after he evolved his Class into something more physical. Brin thought there was a lot he could learn from this class right now, but he didn’t argue the point. He’d rather wait to start getting serious about training his body until after the curse was fixed.
Bia finally seemed to be satisfied with her appearance. She plucked at her clothes, tucked her shirt into her pants again, and then nodded at herself and took a breath. Then she stepped towards the door. With one last glance at the mirror… she stopped in her tracks. Her face lost its color.
Brin couldn’t see what she saw. His detector spells told him her temperature was dropping and her pulse was racing.
In a flash of movement he could barely follow with his eyes, Bia fled out the window.