“Adjunct Assistant to the Deputy Director of the Magic Society, Greenstone branch,” he read. “What it the gods’ names does that mean?”
“Sounds like a position that was made up for some rich prick’s useless kid,” Thel said.
“Doesn’t it just.”
“This one’s a little odd,” Thel said, gesturing at the order. “The guy who delivered the order said he was told to be very clear it was a low-priority order.”
“Low priority?”
“That’s right. He said he was given specific instructions that we don’t break schedule and just fit it in when we can. He just wants us to let him know when it’s going out.”
“That’s weird, right?”
“Very weird. I’ve seen plenty of demands from the high-ups to rush an order, but being told to take our time is a first.”
“Sounds shady,” Drew said. “Since when did you see anyone with authority show any consideration or decency?”
“Never,” Thel said. “Think we should look into it?”
“Gods, no. The order isn’t a do-up, is it?”
“No, the order’s for real.”
“Then it’s not our problem. We get the piece of paper and we do what it says. Anything more than that is someone else’s problem.”
Jason and Clive were walking through Old City, in the direction of Jory’s clinic.
“Are you sure just organising the shipment was enough?” Clive asked. “Maybe I should have leaked some more information.”
“No,” Jason said. “This thief clearly has solid information sources. If she kept hearing about this shipment from too many places, she’d get spooked and not take the bait. As long as you made sure the shipment won’t move out until they’ve had time to hear about it. You are sure this is what she needs, right? These tilting stones?”
“Jason, I’m one of the few people with a complete understanding of the security measures around the city’s spirit coin vault. Once we scratched the distraction items off our list, everything she’s stolen as part of this spree can be used to circumvent one of those security measures. Bronze-rank sopor gas for the guards, sump coil rods for the alarm matrix, dodec crystals for the vault door…”
“The magic twelve-sided dice,” Jason said. “They’re my favourite.”
“I don’t know how this thief got such a complete rundown of the security, but looking at what she’s been stealing, she clearly has it.”
“And you’re worried she won’t find out about the shipment?”
“That’s a good point.”
“You just have to swap us out for the regular drivers at the very last minute so she doesn’t catch wind.”
They went in through the new self-opening glass doors of the clinic.
“Nice,” Clive said, looking them over as they went through. “That’s some clean, simple magic.”
“They were my suggestion,” Jason said.
They walked up to the receptionist.
“Morning, Janice,” Jason greeted her. “Can he spare a minute?”
“For you, Mr Asano? Always. Things have been a lot more manageable since the initial rush, and having a healing priest here full-time really makes things easier. We miss having you around, though. You’re always off having exciting adventures, these days. I’m surprised you aren’t on that big expedition everyone was talking about.”
“They need someone to keep things running while everyone else is gallivanting about,” Jason said. “You haven’t met Clive, yet, have you?”
They chatted, waiting for Jory, but a different person emerged instead. It was a runic, with the dark skin and glowing runes typical of his people.
“Mr Lange,” Janice greeted and made introductions. Donal Lange was the priest of the Healer assigned to Jory's clinic for the moment. He had arrived in Greenstone through a portal created by the Healer to help replace the excommunicated clergy.
“Jory has good things to say about you, Mr Asano. Confusing and contradictory at times, but with much praise. Healing people for nothing is a fine calling, although I may be biased in that opinion.”
“Don’t go praising me too much,” Jason said. “It was an easy way to train my cleansing power, so it wasn’t exactly selfless.”
“Jason!” Jory said, entering the waiting room. “Come on back.”
Jason and Clive shook hands with Donal, then followed Jory. In one of the back rooms, Jason quickly got to the point.
“I need something that can change our faces and something that can mask our auras. Knock it down to normal rank, if possible.”
Jory rubbed his chin, thoughtfully.
“Changing your face is easy enough,” he said. “Frankly, I’m surprised it took you this long to ask.”
“What’s wrong with my face?”
“I've had some reports that the face-changing ointment is a bit unreliable,” Jory said, ignoring Jason's question. “Moving your face reduces the effective duration, so try not to talk and keep your expression blank as much as you can.”
“That should be fine,” Clive said, Jason nodding agreement.
“Changing your aura is trickier,” Jory said. “If you just wanted to mask it at your own rank, that would be one thing. I could give you something for that now. Dropping it down a rank is another matter. This is for a contract?”
“It is,” Jason said. “Clive and I have been working this one for a little while.”
“I heard you’re a big, three-star adventurer now,” Jory said. “How did you swing that?”
“With your watering can and a little discretion,” Jason said, causing Jory to laugh.
“That makes sense,” he said. “They must have been so startled to see discretion from you that they handed over the star from sheer startlement.”
Clive burst out laughing.
“I’m starting to feel put upon,” Jason said. “Can you help with the aura?”
“I think I can make up what you need,” Jory said. “It’ll be precarious though. How’s your aura control?”
“It’s coming along.”
“It’ll have to be. If you can’t keep it suppressed, it’ll breach the aura mask. So will using any essence abilities.”
“That’s fine,” Jason said. “It’s just an extra precaution that Clive suggested.”
“Our quarry is cautious and resourceful,” Clive said.
“Probably best not to share any unnecessary details,” Jason said to Clive.
“He’s right,” Jory said. “I can’t spill porridge that’s not in my bowl. I can have that for you tomorrow, or tonight if you’re really in a rush.”
“Tomorrow is fine,” Clive said.
“We’ll let you get back to it,” Jason said. “How are those church of the Healer people working out?”
“Fantastic,” Jory said. “Mostly it’s been Donal, and he’s terrific. It’s like having you on full-time, without the ominous overtones. Oh, before you go; Norwich loved that barbeque you had. It drummed him up a whole lot of business. He wanted me to ask you if you had any interest in doing it on the regular. Your connections, his booze.”
“Norwich?” Clive asked. “Was he the guy running the bar?”
“That’s right,” Jory said. “He has a distillery a couple of streets over.”
“It’s not a terrible idea,” Jason said. “I’m a little busy just right now, but tell him I’m interested.”
A wagon was making its way through the streets of the Island. It had no animals pulling it; it was being driven by magic. There was a driver, plus another man next to him on the driver’s bench. In the early afternoon, there were people out and about. It remained uncrowded, though, with the wide streets and generous footpaths. The men on the wagon didn't even glance as it rolled past a young woman with short hair, wearing a light jacket over a dress decorated with dark flowers.
After the wagon passed her by, Belinda opened her jacket to look at the crystal plate sewn into it. It showed the aura of the wagon’s dimensional-storage crates and the normal-rank auras of the two men riding it. She took a small tube from her jacket pocket, holding it vertically as she peeled a paper cap off the top. She felt a blast of heat and air, but the magical flare would be invisible and silent to anyone without a special viewing item or certain essence abilities.