RE: Monarch
Chapter 54: Enclave XXIV

Not to mention, I really didn’t like the look in Ephira’s eye. It went beyond simple animosity. She would be hunting for the thieves stupid enough to rob her friend for the rest of the reset, and it wouldn’t surprise me if she leaned on Guemon to help her do it.

If Ephira and Guemon weren’t co-conspirators, I needed to do everything on my power to head that off.

I just didn’t know how.

Ginger’s gravity field certainly did what it was intended to do. If it wasn’t for the chaos, I had no doubt the initial conflict with Ephira would have been over in seconds, with every guard from the surrounding area swooping in to grab us. But these were trained men, and unlike the guards of Whitefall—who I had no doubt would still be haphazardly spinning about in the air—these men had grown up in the enclave. Most of them were magicians, and they were accustomed to improvising within the bounds of strange situations that cropped up when magic was involved.

It only took them a matter of minutes to adjust. Soon they were zipping about the hallways, using a combination of magic and teamwork to maneuver around the estate.

Though my inability to use demon-fire in this situation was a serious handicap, my lesser magic finally found some use. I found that if I manipulated an air current to push slightly downward against my upper back and shoulders, I was able to better stick to surfaces. I’d occasionally kick-off from the wall or floor too hard and lose traction, but within a weightless environment, even the insignificant current of air I produced was enough to bring me back down.

A guard swung drunkenly around the corner, clinging to a light fixture and cursing. I grabbed Jorra by the back of his collar and dove into a side room. The guard cursing loudly as he passed.

Jorra made a muted, choking sound, and I released him, using a downward thrust of air to bring myself to the floor. The side-room was some sort of inspection area. Dozens, if not hundreds of gems—some still encased in rock—floated freely above tables where they’d once rested, forming a prismatic galaxy. The lenses of loupes and reflectometers refracted harsh-white light from the industrial lumen lamps above, and a half dozen metal tools and hammers—likely used for shaping or scratch testing—floated freely, having been disturbed by either vibrations or air currents from elsewhere in the house.

Jorra made a quiet exclamation. His whip curled around the leg of one of the examination tables, and he pulled himself over to the dazzling array of floating gemstones.

“Beautiful,” Jorra said.

I couldn’t quite drag my gaze away from the door, but his reaction was amusing.

“Didn’t take you as the type.”

“Mother tells the story often. She wouldn’t let father buy her a ring. Some moral quibble about pointless displays. According to her, gold is the root of all evil things.”

That sounded like Nethtari.

Jorra reached up to touch a floating cross-rose cut ruby, his finger sending it spinning in the specular light. “How can something so beautiful cause so much trouble?” His voice had a wistfulness to it.

“That question has been asked more times, in more contexts than either of us are likely to know.”

“What would something like this be worth in golden slivers?”

“The ruby? More than slivers. A couple of rods at least. It depends on the cut and clarity. Color factors in as well. Gems are complicated.”

He looked over to me, his eyes wide. I could almost read his mind. A few golden rods was a sum likely exponentially larger than what Kilvius and Nethtari made in a year.

I wondered what he was imagining using the money for. Something for the sanctum maybe. A xescalt sword perhaps. Or maybe a void bag.

“We could finally get the floors fixed.” Jorra whispered. “Maybe hire a tutor for Agarin.”

Damn.

“There sure are a lot of them.” I said, innocently. “I doubt it’d be a problem if one more went missing.”

Jorra glared at me. “That would be stealing.”

I bit my tongue to keep from laughing aloud.

“What exactly do you think we’re doing here?” I asked.

“Nope. No sir. You’re stealing.” Jorra jutted a finger at me. “I was recruited under duress. I am an unwitting accomplice.”

“Unwitting indeed.” I chuckled. His reasoning was undoubtedly foolish. But it only made me like him more.

Jorra confirmed that Shear and Ginger had reached the far corner of the house and were holding there. Their movements did not appear to be erratic, so we assumed they weren’t in any trouble. After checking out the doorway, we moved silently down the hall, approaching the area on the map where Mifral’s bedroom was supposed to be. The room was segmented by double doors with the sort of gaudy gold-trimmings and elegant inlays I’d come to expect from the woman.

Using the air current to stabilize myself, I rotated until my head was pressed against the ground and peered through the crack. A violet infernal with curly hair and a rotund figure cowered in the back left corner next to the bed. I could also see the long metallic limbs of armed guards in front of the door. My view was limited, but I could see them from the waist down: their legs were set in ready stances, their scabbards empty.

Difficult. But not unexpected.

I turned back towards Jorra and held out two fingers. Then I opened my bag and pulled two of the alchemical poultices. Jorra kicked backwards a few feet, pulled in a deep breath, and held it.

I didn’t have the luxury of distance, but held my breath all the same and drew my sword. Then stomped down on the two bottles. The mixture made my eyes fill with stinging tears and my vision swim instantly. It took everything I had to not lose focus. I reached out and encircled the dispersing powder with a current of air, then shoved it under the door.

Immediately, the guards on the other side began to hack and cough. I noted with grim satisfaction how quickly it had kicked in.

Jorra’s water bomb detonated against he doors and sent the guards flying back.

One used earth magic, a slab of granite emerging from the floor as a stepping stone, while the other used standard fire, one hand held behind him to counteract the momentum.

Mifral shrieked at the sudden explosion, then opened her eyes and shrieked again. “My floors! Look what they’ve done to my floors!” Both guards were wise enough not to comment, but I knew all too well the awkward air between them, the one that occurred when a master embarrassed their charges.

They both coughed loudly, their eyes red.

“Wait—“ The earth-guard said. But I had already kicked off the doorframe. A chunk of marble passed narrowly by my ear as I flew head first towards the fire-guard. He reacted poorly, lashing out with a diversionary gout of flame which I dove straight through, twisting in the air to deliver a quick two-handed blow.

Fire-guard had expected me to flinch and didn’t quite manage to get his sword up in time. The flat of my sword struck the tip of his helmet with a might clang, and his eyes glazed, his whole body slackening for just a moment.

From the side, I saw Jorra chasing earth-mage up the side wall, swearing as the man erected barrier after barrier behind him, creating a rocky series of henges that formed a strange landscape where a once pedestrian surface used to be. Mifral’s wails went up an octave each time magic scarred another part of her abode, as if the house itself was an extension of her body.

I had no way of stopping my momentum and slammed into the stunned fire mage, our limbs tangling. I smashed the pointed pommel of my sword against his wrist, and his sword came loose, spinning off beneath the bed. Using a gust of air to rotate us so my back was facing the floor, I kicked out with both feet, sending him flying up towards the ceiling where Jorra fought the earth-guard. Jorra’s whip caught the earth-guard around the neck and yanked him forward.

There was a crash as the fire-guard collided with his comrade.

“You useless bastards!” Mifral screamed up at them. “You’ll never work in the enclave again!”

The pang of sympathy I felt for the guards didn’t change what had to be done. I ran to the window and pulled it open. Jorra picked up on the cue immediately and anchored himself against the chandelier, using his whip to fling them both downward.

With surprisingly little effort, I guided them out. They hung in the air almost comically before reaching the edge of the gravity field, and plummeting to the ground below with a painful crash.

“Where are they?” I called up to Jorra.

“On their way.”

Then he yelped. I didn’t respond because I was falling face first into the tile floor. Gravity returned with a vengeance, furious with the mere mortals that had dared to toy with it.

From where I’d fallen, I saw Jorra smash through the canopy of Mifral’s bed. She shrieked as he landed next to her.

My entire body felt interminably heavy, as if I’d put on twice the mass and was trying to swim through tar. My vision swam, and I was unable to keep my eyes on one spot. It felt like the hangover from a weeklong bender, only worse.

Jorra sat up groggily in the bed. With his back to Mifral, he removed his mask and vomited into an urn on the end table.

Mifral herself was curled in a ball, unmoving.

In that moment of sheer misery, I swore to get back at the dwarf for leaving that particular side-effect out of the conversation.

As if on cue, Shear and Ginger both staggered in. Shear looked haggard but unblemished. Ginger was bleeding from a cut above his eye.

“Nice of you to join us after the trouble is dealt with.” I groused and hiccuped.

Shear fell to his knees, panting. Ginger looked at all of us as if we were idiots. “Yeh pusses think that’s bad? Wait till you’re on the business end of a gravity inversion. Now that’ll ruin your day.”

“Can we leave him?” Jorra asked.

“I’ll leave you in a draxen’s mudpie on a sunny day, ya’ turrly gobshite.”

“I don’t even know what any of those things mean!”

“Can it, you two. Where’s the safe?” Shear had finally caught his breath.

I’d been so distracted in the fight I’d all but forgotten. We scoured the room. I was sweating heavily, moisture soaking the robe’s fabric at my armpits and lower back.

Ginger found the safe in Mifral’s closet, then let loose a string of curses. Jorra and I crowded in behind them.

The safe was embedded within the floor beneath a legion of fashionable boots and heeled shoes, it's face a sheer wall of dark xescalt.

“Can’t open it?” Shear asked.

“I could,” Ginger said “If I had half an hour. I’d have to pick it manually. The guards are going to wise up any minute now.”

Shear swore. “Just do what you can.”

I pulled Shear aside as Ginger began to work. “What the hell happened?”

Shear shook his head. “I don’t know. Wasn’t supposed to go down like that. The field activated when the dwarf put the last one down.”

I lowered my voice further. “As in, it activated as soon as he placed it? Or after.”

Shear’s face grew tight. “I’ve been thinking on that as well. It activated the moment he set it.”

I processed that.

“Doesn’t look good,” Shear added. Sᴇaʀᴄh the NʘvᴇlFirᴇ.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

This was getting too complicated. I looked up at the ceiling, deep in thought. Mifral’s chandelier was still shifted to the side. There were too many moving parts to this scenario. My biggest concern going in was that Persephone and her minions intended to leave me holding the bag. That no longer seemed to be the case—at least, not in the way that I originally thought. Both Ginger and Shear seemed genuinely alarmed, and they were already neck deep in this with us.

So, who gained what, exactly?

“Guards!” Jorra shouted.

Shear ran over and threw his shoulder against the doors as Jorra and I barricaded them with every piece of furniture that wasn’t tied down.

“Fuck it.” Ginger threw down his lock-picks. “Just gonna have to beat it out of her.” He stalked over towards where Mifral was crumpled on the floor.

That would undoubtedly escalate things in a direction we didn’t want. I caught his shoulder. “Wait. Let me give it a go.” I nodded to the safe.

Ginger stared incredulously. “Now you’re a safe cracker, too?”

“Not… exactly.” I hedged. “Look, she’s not even conscious. Right now, I’m our best shot. If I can’t get it open, you ask the lady. Preferably nicely.”

“Why not?” Ginger’s voice raised in pitch. “Waste our precious time. How about this? I’ll go ask her nicely now, and after you make a fool of yourself, I'll ask her not so nicely.”

“Fine.”

Ginger crossed the room to Mifral and began prodding her with his boot. Shear and Jorra’s barricade appeared to be holding. Satisfied that they were all focused on their respective tasks, I shut myself in the closet and called the flame.

Three minutes later, I emerged.

The guards had given up trying to get through the doors and were likely in the midst of trying something else.

Ginger paused mid-action. He held a bucket of water, which was just inches away from pouring on Mifral’s sleeping face. “Catch a nap in there did yeh?”

I reached in my pocket and tossed it to him. The massive rock glittered blue like an ocean at noon. Ginger caught it with both hands, his lips pulling back in a grin. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

Shear pushed in next to him. “This is it. A bit smaller than reported, but close enough.” He turned to me. “Was there anything else in the safe?”

“Empty.” I shrugged.

Everyone jumped as the side door to Mifral’s connected parlor disintegrated and ozone filled the room.

Ephira stepped through the door. She looked like a completely different person. Along with being completely dry, her hair had been tied up in a vicious knot, and she wore a sheer white dress that didn’t quite fit her. The only remaining evidence of our conflict in the atrium was the combination of her swollen eye and the fact that her feet were still bare. Her nails clicked against the tile as she walked.

I swallowed. We’d barely managed to delay her when the gravity field had been running, and we had the element of surprise. Even with Shear and Ginger here, there was no chance. I doubted the same trick would work twice.

“All that gumption from earlier. Gone. How disappointing.” Ephira summoned with both hands. Electricity arced off her, filling the room with golden light. The lumen lamps went black.

We were so close. My many options disappeared into nothing. Despair clawed at me.

The memory of the trial came back to me out of nowhere. There was no question that, as I was now, I couldn’t beat her. But maybe I didn’t have to. Maybe there was a way to keep my cover intact, and take Ephira out of play simultaneously.

It was a huge risk. In the end, the way this played out would all depend on her.

I reached up and tapped my shoulder three times.

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