The Zombie Knight

Chapter 232: 'The land of masks...'

Twenty-First Oath -- Allies and Enemies

Chapter Two Hundred Thirty-Two: 'The land of masks...'

A significant period of silence arrived.

'...Lemme get this straight,' said Mevox. 'The President of Lorent currently has two different foreign advisors, one of which is a servant of Abolish, and the other, a servant of the Vanguard.'

'That is correct,' said the unnamed reaper.

More silence.

Until Mevox broke it again. 'What a clusterfuck.'

Ravi released a small chortle, though Hector couldn't tell if it was sarcastic or not. "It certainly has its difficulties. But I think the President appreciates hearing a variety of opinions. He is a wiser man than I first gave him credit for."

'You don't have to suck up to your boss,' said Mevox. 'He's not here, right now.'

That made Ravi laugh more strongly, which did sound genuine this time. "I have not met a reaper with such a sharp tongue in quite some time. Might you be so kind as to tell me your name?"

'Eh, I'm not really known for my kindness.'

"Heh. Somehow, that does not surprise me," said Ravi.

'Ooh, ouch,' said Mevox. 'Is that a bit of backbone I spy? If so, I'm glad. It's pretty discouraging how many servants allow us reapers to just walk all over them. Bunch of doormats, the lot of you.'

Ravi's reaper shook his skull. 'Perhaps they realized that the easiest way to deal with exceptionally rude individuals is to simply tell them what they want to hear and then move on with their day.'

'Hoho. Maybe so. But the quickest way to tell if a barrel is empty inside is to kick it, know what I'm sayin'?'

'Not in the slightest.'

'Ah, well. Never you mind your empty little head, then.'

'What?!'

'Hmm? Something wrong?'

It soon became clear that the reapers were not going to stop arguing, so Hector decided to just head into one of the rooms already. Salvador had to drag Mevox along, too.

Ravi joined them but only briefly to wish them a good rest before pulling his own reaper away.

The room was plenty spacious, but it was clearly meant for only one or two guests, since there was only one bed.

The Rainlords chose to stay, anyway. Salvador took the couch, while Carlos and Fidel both sat down by the door.

Hector wanted to just go to sleep immediately, but now that they were all alone with no Lorentians around, he felt like they needed to discuss a few things. Before he could even open his mouth, however, Garovel phased through the wall.

'About time you showed up,' said Mevox. 'How long were you planning to listen to me shit talk that Abolish reaper?'

'Oh, I could've listened to that all day,' said Garovel.

'Eavesdropping is unbecoming for us reapers, you know.'

Garovel snorted. 'Tell any other lies today?'

'Probably. I forget.'

Voreese arrived, too, phasing through a different wall. 'Hey, keep it down in here. Roman's trying to sleep, and your conversation is louder than the clapping of your ass cheeks when you walk.'

'There are so many stupid things about what you just said that I don't even know where to begin,' said Mevox.

'Relax, I was just joking,' said Voreese. 'Nothing could be louder than your ass cheeks.'

'Good to see you, too, by the way,' said Garovel.

'Aw, shut up,' said Voreese. 'We saw each other like a day ago.'

'Yeah, and you almost died since then,' said Garovel.

'Pfft, so what?' Her hollow eye sockets widened a little. 'Oh, or are you telling me that absence has made your heart grow fonder?'

'Perhaps if I had a heart.'

'Don't try to play coy now, you big flirt.'

'I fucking hate this conversation,' said Mevox.

'That supposed to be our problem?' said Voreese.

'This is all very entertaining,' came the voice of one of the other three reapers in the room who had thus far remained quiet, 'but we have more pressing matters to discuss, do we not?' That was Olijas, the reaper of Carlos Sebolt.

Hector couldn't remember if he'd even heard the reaper say a single thing since getting pulled here to Lorent. It was a little strange to him when quieter reapers like Olijas and Ernivoc were around. Maybe spending so much time with Garovel made them seem weirder than they actually were, though. And the presence of Mevox and Voreese probably didn't help in that regard, either.

'We're aware,' said Mevox, 'but the walls have ears, as they as they say. These two louts just proved it.'

'So have one of your servants soundproof the room against reapers,' said Olijas. 'You're wasting time.'

'Oh, no!' said Voreese. 'Not time! What will a bunch of immortal beings like us do without more time on our hands?!'

'Hey, don't make fun of him,' said Mevox. 'He's not wrong, y'know. All you ever do is waste time.'

'Oh, shut the fuck up!' said Voreese, though she was laughing.

Hector exhaled a tired breath and began slowly dematerializing his armor while the reapers continued bickering. As he'd expected, his clothes were torn in several places and spotted with blood. He'd brought some luggage with him for this very reason, but the last time he saw it was in the cargo hold of Roman's chartered airplane. And the last time he saw that airplane, it was in separate pieces.

Oh well. He doubted the Lorentians would mind lending him some new clothes tomorrow.

"Lord Goffe..."

Hector looked up, unsure who had just spoken to him. Ah.

Fidel Blackburn was looking at him from the corner of the room by the door. And the expression on the man's face was one of mild surprise.

Hector didn't know why that was, though. "What's the matter?"

Garovel answered, instead. 'Ah. You're dead.'

Hector blinked but resisted the urge to say anything else. His normally dark brown skin was looking grayer than usual, and he realized that his chest felt a little odd. His breathing, too, was somehow off.

'That's strange,' said Garovel as his gangly hand found his shoulder. 'Your injuries don't seem that bad.'

The typical vigor didn't surge through him, as his tiredness remained as it was, nor was his strength being enhanced. He could only feel his wounds tightening themselves and closing. There was a stirring in his rib cage as his heart started back up.

How weird. Hector often forgot that the regeneration, the removal of fatigue, and the undead strength were all separate abilities. Garovel usually used them in conjunction with one another, excepting only when the reaper was trying to help him correct his sleep schedule. It was especially rare for the reaper to ever invoke the regeneration without anything else.

And it felt a little strange to realize that he'd been a literal walking corpse this whole time.

Salvador had been relaxing lengthwise on the couch, but now he was sitting up at full attention. "How did you die? Did the Beast get you?"

"...I'm actually not sure," said Hector. "Some of its spawn landed a few hits, but they weren't that bad. Or at least, I didn't think they were."

"Clearly, they didn't slow you down," said Salvador.

'I think I can explain,' said Garovel. 'But first, let's take precautions...' He looked toward Carlos and Fidel by the door.

Fidel seemed to understand and began to cover the entrance in copper, along with the ventilation in the ceiling and the large window on the far end of the room that had previously offered a nice view of the building's inner courtyard. The man pressed his hand against his work, too, and after a few moments, he spoke up again. "We're reaper-proofed," he said.

'Thanks.' Garovel rounded on Hector again. 'Something caused your heart to stop beating, and it doesn't look like it was blood loss. You didn't get struck by lightning, did you?'

Madly, Hector actually had to stop and think about that for a second. "No... but I did have some close calls with that, I think. And now that you mention it, I'm pretty sure that Pauline got hit by a stray lightning bolt."

'Oh, right, the Sparrow,' said Mevox. 'Is she still around?'

Hector allowed a beat to pass, half-expecting her to chime in suddenly from wherever she was. When that didn't happen, he tried to explain. "I believe she is, but she probably can't hear us while the room is protected by soul infusion."

'Aha,' said Voreese. 'So reaper-proof also means Sparrow-proof, eh? Good to know.'

'Why didn't she talk to us during the car ride here?' said Mevox.

'Maybe because you never shut up,' said Voreese.

'Hmm, maybe. But I seem to recall you being quite the blabbermouth, yourself.'

'Yeah, but people love it when I do it.'

'Really? Would these people happen to exist outside of your own delusions?'

Voreese looked like she was more than prepared to keep arguing, but Garovel managed to yank the conversation away from the two of them again.

'Well, in any case, I think Hector's heart was probably stopped by some kind of venom from the Beast's spawn.'

"Hmm." Hector mulled that possibility over in a background thought process.

Venom, huh? How many other tricks had Chort been concealing? Even now, Hector still didn't really understand how that bastard had managed to teleport everyone around against their will. And it was particularly mysterious, because as far Hector remembered, Chort hadn't used teleportation during the fight at all.

Why was that, he wondered?

Could the auras that Pauline talked about have had something to do with it? Damn. There sure were a lot of things he wanted to talk to her about, but he figured they would be able to wait until after had finally gotten some rest.

Meanwhile, the reapers were discussing Garovel's venom theory among themselves. All of the other servants had taken a few licks from the spawn as well, but none of them had been "killed" in the same way because--unlike Hector--all of their reapers had been able to invoke their regeneration in the middle of the fight.

In the end, it didn't seem like any real conclusion was going to be reached, and Hector began to drift off as he listened to the reapers talk. How were they able to do that? Just go on and on, endlessly? They never ran out of energy unless they were wounded, did they?

Mm.

Man, this sleep felt good. Warm darkness. So familiar and soothing. A hot spring for the mind. And the soul, too? Maybe. Why was this so great, he wondered? Sleep never did get old, did it?

...Hmm?

He was asleep now, wasn't he?

Hector felt abruptly uncomfortable. Which was especially weird, because the warm darkness was still comfortable, too. Somehow, everything was fine and wrong at the same time.

Was this a dream, then? He never really dreamed much. He'd been that way his whole life. Unless... he just always forgot his dreams the instant he woke up? He supposed that was possible, but...

No, he didn't think so. This wasn't normal. His thoughts were too clear. He may not have dreamed very often, but he did still know what they were like, and this definitely wasn't it. Or maybe this was just a lucid dream? He'd only ever heard of those before. Was this what they were like?

Eh. Hmm...

Well, now what? How much time was passing? Was he just stuck here? Could he wake himself up? Did he want to? Not really. He needed his sleep.

Agh. So confusing. What the hell should he--?

"Young Hector," came a familiar voice.

And he stopped. He hadn't even been doing anything, but he stopped. "Rasalased?"

"Hello."

"Uh. Hi..."

"You are confused."

"Yes, I am..."

"That is understandable. I see you have changed again."

"...I have?"

"Of course. Change is the most natural thing in the world, is it not?"

"Maybe. This doesn't feel very natural, right now, though..."

"Yes, I must agree."

"...How are we even speaking, right now?"

"A good question."

"One you don't have an answer for, I take it?"

"Perhaps. Perhaps not."

"Right..."

"I believe your two blessings of Focus and Domain are interacting with one another. And so you have created this... headspace, so to speak."

Hector might've blinked if his eyes weren't already closed. "Wait, what? I did this? I thought it was your doing."

"No, it was not I."

"But how I could I have...? Uh... I mean, I was just trying to sleep."

"Not every accomplishment is made intentionally, Young Hector."

Hector still had his doubts, quite frankly, but he wasn't about to argue with the Dry God over it. In fact, now that he was thinking about it, he felt like he needed to thank Rasalased before doing anything else. "Thank you for your guidance before," he said. "Again, I mean. I don't think I could have gotten through to Leo if you hadn't told me what you did."

"Ah, the sheep. Yes. You are welcome. And I must thank you for rescuing my successor."

"...You can just call him Asad, you know."

"Asad? Is that the new Lion's name?"

"What? How could you not know his name already? You know, like, everything."

"Names... are difficult for me to perceive from afar."

"They are? Why?"

"A name is not a soul, and a soul is not a name. A brain may regard itself by its name, but a soul does not. A soul's identity is something deeper. More piercing. Illustrative. And truthful. A brain may lie to itself and often does. A soul, however, has no capacity for deceit. It simply is. And names, in some sense, are a part of that deception."

"Huh... it kinda sounds like you just don't want to perceive their names."

"Hmm. That may also be true. It matters little."

Hector supposed he was right. There were plenty of other subjects he wanted to discuss. "...How much do you know about my current circumstances?"

"You encountered an entity of Chaos," said Rasalased.

"Yeah. Chortomo... something or other. Chort. Have you ever seen anything like that before?"

"Perhaps. Or perhaps not."

Hector wanted to frown. "Rasalased..."

"You speak of the unreal made real. Have I seen the unreal before? Everyone has. In their mind's eye, if nowhere else."

"...Okay, but have you ever seen a monster like that in the real world before?"

"I... am not certain. Chaos is, by its very nature, difficult to perceive. I feel as though I have, but the memories may be blended with dreams and nightmares."

Hmm. Hector was disappointed, but if Rasalased couldn't tell him anything, then that was that. And there were plenty of other subjects to ask about. "Okay, well, do you know anything about Sparrows? Or auras, maybe?"

"Ah... you speak of the Wrobels. Yes. You are lucky. The one you are traveling with seems trustworthy."

"Really?" Wow. If Pauline had Rasalased's approval, then that was no small thing. Hector felt like maybe he should give her more credit than he had been so far.

"I believe so. But take my judgment of her character with a degree of caution. Wrobel souls are more difficult to read than that of our kind. And they are incredibly dangerous creatures."

"Ah..." Dang.

"As allies, they would of course be helpful, but you must be cautious. They are, perhaps, the worst of all possible enemies."

"Uh..." Hector found that a little hard to believe. "You really think so? I mean, I wouldn't exactly put them in the same threat level as something like an emperor-level servant or a feldeath."

"Ah. You may be right. The ones you have met do seem like a mere shadow of the Wrobels that I remember."

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"Wait, they were more powerful in the past?"

"Were they? Yes, I believe they were. Or perhaps yours are merely playing at being weaker than they truly are."

Now there was a discomforting thought. "I don't think so," said Hector. "Pauline is one thing, but Hanton Gaolanet had plenty of reason to not hold back against me."

"Perhaps so."

"Can you tell me anything about auras?"

"Yes. But this headspace of yours is fading. You will wake soon."

"Wha? Already? It feels like I just went to sleep."

"Indeed. So allow me one last word: be wary of pretenders. They are..."

"...Pretenders? What do you mean?"

No response came.

And he could feel the warm darkness shifting. "Aw, fuck..."

Sluggishly, light began to return as Hector's eyes opened. Fog blanketed his thoughts as his consciousness reoriented itself.

'Hey there, buddy,' came an echoing voice.

'Garovel...?'

'That's me.'

Hector sat up in his giant guest bed and rubbed his face. Damn, he hadn't even changed his clothes before going to sleep, and there was still blood on them. "Uh..."

'Did you have a nice rest?' asked Garovel. 'Was it pleasant? And totally normal? Not different at all? Hmm?'

Hector blinked dully a few times. Obviously, he intended to tell the reaper about meeting Rasalased again, but Garovel's tone was making him curious first. '...Why are you asking?'

'You were talking in your sleep. Well. Mumbling, really.'

'Oh...'

'Yeah. You were kind of weirding everyone out. I thought about waking you up, but then I started to find it funny and decided not to.'

He scratched his chin. 'Ah...'

The Rainlords were all still in the room with him, as were the reapers.

No, wait, Carlos Sebolt and Olijas were missing. Salvador and Matteo were asleep, but Fidel was looking at him.

"Good morning, Lord," said Fidel, softly enough to not wake the others.

"Is it morning?" said Hector, getting out of bed.

"Ah. No. It is evening again."

Hector nodded. "Where's Carlos?"

"He went for a walk with Roman and Voreese. I think he intended to meet up with the others, as well." Fidel stood up and retrieved a stack of clothes from a bureau by the bathroom. He handed them off to Hector. "Here, Lord. These arrived for you a few hours ago. Gifts from Secretary Karr, according to the attendant who brought them."

Hector took them and then noticed that Fidel had already changed his own clothes. A sharp suit, not entirely dissimilar to what the man had been wearing before, but certainly lighter in color.

The clothes that he'd been offered also shared the latter feature. Fashion had never really been Hector's forte, but neither were bright colors. He wasn't quite sure how to feel about these, honestly.

Still, it would've been rude to refuse them, and he didn't really have any other options at the moment, anyway. He entered the bathroom to get changed.

This place, too, was quite extravagant. The Lorentians really seemed to like their wooden beams and vaulted ceilings, and the white tiles below his feet were so polished that he could almost see his reflection in them.

That wasn't really the most desirable trait in a bathroom floor, he felt, but whatever.

The clothes, despite not exactly being to his tastes, were obviously quite well-made. The fabrics were soft to the touch, and the golden buttons seemed like they might actually have been crafted from real gold. The tie, at least, was black, though he wasn't sure how well it went with the bright gray coat. He still had a little trouble tying it, but he managed. He was slowly getting accustomed to wearing these things.

And then there was...

Wait, what was this thing? Some kind of long, silky blue strip of cloth with white fringes? It couldn't be a second tie, right? And it was too big, besides. How was even supposed to wear this?

He decided to be stubborn for a couple more minutes, trying to solve this puzzle himself, before finally asking Garovel for help.

'Oh, that's a sash,' the reaper said privately.

'Oh,' said Hector. 'Uh... really?'

'Why do you sound so surprised? You've never seen a sash before?'

'I mean... probably.'

'In fact, I know you have. Some of the Hun'Kui in the Undercrust were wearing them.'

'Uh... oh yeah. Those didn't look like this, though.'

'Well, yeah. The one you're holding is probably a hundred times more expensive.'

'Ah...'

'Plus, I could be mistaken, but I think that one is specifically for foreign officials. Those are Atreyan colors. That sash's real purpose is probably to help the people around here tell where you're from with just a glance.'

Hector supposed that would make sense. He slipped the sash on and fiddled with it and the Scarf for a while. This thing wasn't inside out, was it? Garovel didn't seem to think so, so it was probably fine.

He had to admit--it was kind of cool. And also very weird. When he exited the bathroom, he realized that Fidel's new clothes didn't include a sash.

Hector almost asked the man why that was directly before thinking better of it and asking Garovel.

'Hector.' The reaper's private voice sounded disappointed with him. 'C'mon. Do you really need me to explain that to you?'

'Uh... I mean...' Well, now he wanted to say no, but frankly, he was even more confused than before.

'As far as Lorent is concerned, they're just your subordinates. That sash is meant to make YOU more distinguished, not them.'

Ah.

Hector didn't like hearing that. These brave men here obviously weren't his subordinates, and they deserved just as much recognition as him, if not more.

But that was impossible, of course. There was a bigger picture to worry about.

He was really starting to hate this whole charade. It seemed like so many things were just falling into his lap, lately. Like nothing he was doing was earned. Everyone was just bending over backwards for him, because for one reason or another, they had no real choice in the matter.

And worse, it felt like nobody but him could see it.

The Rainlords were too nice to say anything, but they must have been profoundly sick of this whole arrangement already. And Garovel--wow. Garovel played it cool in front of others, but Hector could tell that the reaper was taking a certain delight in it all.

Ugh. He had to get his head on straight. This meeting with the President of Lorent was important for Atreya. If he said or did the wrong thing, it would reflect badly on an entire country.

Oh, man.

A group of attendants arrived to check on them, and when they noticed that Hector was awake, they presented him with a blue folder and retreated without another word.

Fidel and the reapers seemed as curious about its contents as Hector was, so he tried to open it for everyone's viewing. As it turned out, there were several papers inside. He handed a couple off to Fidel.

The first few that Hector read were all part of a dinner menu. He wasn't even familiar with half or more of the listed options, but he could already feel his mouth beginning to water. If Riverton Hall was anything like Bosliat Palace, then the food here was probably pretty amazing, wasn't it?

And he was certainly famished.

"Lord," said Fidel, handing one of the papers back to him. Hector took it, but Fidel explained what it said for him, anyway. "They're looking to arrange a time for your meeting with the President."

Sure enough, Hector saw several times listed in the documents, one of which was this very night.

'Quite accommodating of them,' said Mevox from over Hector's shoulder. 'That's good. I've known more than a few of these political types who were so far up their own ass that they always tried to make everyone else work around their schedule, no matter how important their guests were.'

'I have to agree,' said Garovel. 'This is something that takes more than just money to do right. It speaks well of their consideration for us.'

"Or their fear of us," remarked Salvador, who had apparently woken up.

Mevox chuckled lowly. 'Well, that has its uses, too.'

"Don't even start with that," said Salvador, rolling his shoulders and breathing deeply.

Hector had a feeling that Mevox would start with that, regardless of what anyone else said, so he intervened with a change of subject. "What time would you say is best for us, then?"

'Hmm, good question,' said Garovel. 'If we want to hang around P.J. for a few more days and enjoy this hospitality, then there's no real reason to meet the President tonight. But if we're in a rush to get back to Warrenhold, then the sooner the better.'

'I say we take a load off and relax,' said Mevox. 'Surely, after a battle like that, we deserve it.'

"You barely even did anything," said Salvador dryly.

'It's not about the quantity of one's contribution, my dear boy, but the quality.'

"Oh, shut up."

'Maybe you should call the Queen and ask for her input,' said Garovel. 'She might want us to stay longer for political reasons.'

'Oh, good excuse!' said Mevox. 'Yeah, let's do that!'

He heard Salvador sighing, but Hector actually agreed with the reapers on this one. The Queen's opinion was pretty important here, he felt.

They decided to go through the other papers in the folder first, though. One of them handwritten letter from the President himself, Hector discovered with widening eyes.

It was quite wordy, but it essentially just seemed to be thanking him for his service to the country.

Wow. He should probably frame this and put it on his wall or something, shouldn't he? That would be the proper thing to do, he supposed.

He honestly wasn't sure that he was going to, though.

The final piece of paper was just a blank checklist with a short passage at the top explaining that the Riverton Hall staff would bring him any item that he wrote down. This, it clarified, would be in addition to the actual reward for killing the Beast of Lorent--which would be formally presented to him by the President and the Secretary of the Treasury.

All in all, it was pretty damn generous.

Hector didn't plan on using the checklist, though. They were basically giving him a free pass to abuse their hospitality, but aside from food and clothing, he didn't really want anything.

'Heh, maybe you should try writing down the Dagger of Amordiin just to see what happens,' said Garovel privately.

Hector knew the reaper was joking, but the thought was honestly a bit tempting. Lorent was a pretty big nation. There was a decent chance that the government here had something like that in its possession without even realizing it.

Really, though, it just made him curious about what manner of reward they were planning to give him. It could be just about anything, he supposed. And maybe he was being greedy or narrow-minded, but he was kinda hoping for the obvious answer.

Money.

A big infusion of cash would be immensely helpful, right now. Warrenhold needed it. The Bank needed it. Sure, his financial situation was looking a lot better than it had a few months ago, but things were still in flux. He couldn't shake the feeling that the whole thing could come crumbling down at any moment with just a bit of bad luck.

Hell, even if the reward money went straight into the Atreyan treasury, he'd be cool with that. Atreya needed it, too, and that would probably help the Bank out tangentially.

As advised, he called the Queen, but she wasn't available. Her personal secretary answered instead and told Hector that Her Majesty would get back to him as soon as she could.

'Not surprising,' said Garovel. 'Busy lady, that Helen. Especially now.'

Yeah. Hector didn't need him to be more specific. Even with all this craziness going on, it was hard to forget that there was still a giant war raging across the continent.

The reapers discussed that very subject while the servants had dinner.

The attendants offered to take them to a proper dining location, but the Rainlords preferred the relative privacy of this place. They didn't even take their iron masks off while anyone outside of the group was around.

Roman, Carlos, and Voreese returned in the middle of the meal, and so even more food was ordered. It was like a miniature banquet, if that made any sense. They moved furniture around or just sat on the floor so that they could all gather in the middle of the room and eat together.

Salvador, in particular, did not hold back, and Hector felt a little bad for the waiters bringing all this food into their room. The man's gigantesque physique had not been achieved through a lack of eating, apparently. Hector watched him devour half a turkey by himself, along with dozens of other entrees and side dishes.

Hector began to wonder if part of that appetite was supernatural. It would make sense. He'd definitely noticed a difference in himself. After a big fight, he always ate way more than he usually did. And Salvador could no doubt eat more than most people, so maybe the effect on him was amplified even further.

Whatever the case, it was fantastic. Hector ate his fill, and then kept going, anyway. The crab legs were especially difficult to stop eating, he thought, and then the desert afterward with vanilla ice cream and fudge? He thought he might burst once he was finally done.

Thankfully, he didn't have to worry about being too engrossed in his meal to listen to the reapers' discussion regarding the war. They seemed to be the most interested with this news that Lorent had advisors from both Abolish and the Vanguard.

On the one hand, that seemed like a recipe for major conflict brewing in this country, but on the other, perhaps they were balancing each other out. Hector was curious to meet whoever this Vanguardian advisor was, but obviously, such a meeting would be a bit sketchy while the Rainlords were still hanging around.

Which was another of the reapers' concerns.

The longer they stayed, the more antsy the reapers seemed to become about an accidental encounter with this Vanguardian servant. Whoever it was would have a fair chance of recognizing Salvador, Carlos, or any of the reapers.

And so, after the meal, they decided to depart under the cover of darkness.

It seemed like Fidel Blackburn didn't need to go with them, but he decided to go anyway because they thought that his copper materialization would make it easier to slip away undetected.

Matteo Delaguna, however, remained with Hector as usual while Ernivoc did not. His reaper would be able to instantly warn the other Rainlords of any new dangers that arose around Hector so long as Matteo was with him.

Roman and Voreese decided to stick around, but they were giving the impression that they would soon disappear, too. Roman was less concerned about being recognized by the Vanguard than he was being caught on camera in Hector's company, and his ability to fly would make it all but trivial for him to escape this place.

The remaining members of the group, having all gotten plenty of sleep during the day, decided to take an impromptu nighttime tour of Riverton Hall.

Hector used the opportunity to finally bring Garovel up to speed on all the crazy things that Chort had told him. Hector was interested in hearing Garovel's opinion, but for the most part, the reaper just listened quietly, apparently wanting to hear it all first. And then, the conversation just kind of bled seamlessly into Pauline and Sparrows and aura and whatever the hell 'geographic resonance' was.

By the time Hector was done, Garovel's open eye sockets were looking a bit wider than usual.

'...Wow,' the reaper said privately. 'I mean, I'm surprised, and yet I'm not.'

'Say what?'

'That all sounds in equal parts absurd and horrible to me, but at the same time, I knew shit must've gotten pretty weird and fucked up when reapers started getting teleported out of the country.'

'I was hoping you'd have some useful explanations for me here,' said Hector. The stone path along the eastern edge of Riverton Hall was illuminated with scores of amber lanterns hanging from trees instead of lamp posts. They made for a beautiful view, but seeing as they weren't visibly connected to anything other than the trees, Hector wondered if someone had to light and douse each one individually every single day and night. Surely not, right? Maybe there was some sort of hidden electrical line in the trees or something.

'Well, I suppose there might be a couple things I could talk about,' said Garovel. 'You mentioned the name Lozaro, didn't you?'

'Yeah. You know it?'

'I've only heard it in passing a few times,' the reaper said. 'The first time, though, was over two hundred years ago.'

'Hmm. Don't like the sound of that.'

'Understandable. If this dude was responsible for bringing Chort into the world, then he's probably not one of the most respectable scientists out there.'

'Morgunov is a mad scientist, too, isn't he?'

'The most infamous one, yeah.'

'These two aren't, like, related at all, are they?'

'No idea. It wouldn't surprise me if they knew each other, though. The community of international madmen who are famous for conducting horrible experiments is not that big. Thankfully.'

'Are there any mad scientists that are... y'know, good?'

'Uh. Does Haqq Najir count?'

Hector bobbed his head. 'I dunno, does he?'

'Well, what distinguishes good and evil, really?'

'A question for the ages,' said Hector dryly, not wanting to go down that rabbit hole right now.

And his head turned. He'd had a thought process constantly monitoring the Scarf's input, looking for any sign of a Sparrow among the gently waving trees, and it finally found one nearby. He stopped walking, which made Garovel and the other stop, too.

"There you are, Pauline," he said aloud. "I was starting to get worried."

A rather long period of silence arrived, however, until a different voice arrived.

'Hello, Lord Goffe,' said Hanton Gaolanet.

Hector pressed his lips together flatly as he realized. "Ah..."

Judging from the strained looks on everyone else's face, Hanton was allowing them to hear him speak, too.

'I must apologize for any trouble that my daughter may have caused you,' said Hanton.

"Oh," said Hector. "Not at all. She was actually an enormous help in tracking the monster down. Without her... I think we probably would have suffered at least a few casualties."

'...Truly?' said the Lord Gaolanet. 'You are not merely saying that in order to cover for her?'

That question pulled a laughing breath out of Hector. "Yeah. It's true." She may not have contributed to the fight itself, but there was no way he would've found everyone as quickly as he did without her there to guide him.

'I see. Well, that is a relief to hear.'

"Where is she now?" said Hector.

'I sent her home.'

"How is she doing? Did she seem tired or injured at all?"

'Hmm? She is fine. Why do you ask?'

Hector's eyes narrowed. "...Did she tell you that she was struck by lightning during the battle?"

'What?!'

Ah.

'No, she did not tell me that!'

"I was afraid of that," said Hector. "She sorta just brushed it off, so she seemed like she was okay, but I don't know much about Wrobel physiology, so--"

'Yes, yes, she should be fine in time, but still--agh, I cannot believe she did not mention that. Now it is no wonder why she did not put up more of a fight when I told her to return home. I would have gone with her, had I known.'

"...Are you sure she'll be okay? Most normal humans can't just brush off a lightning strike like that."

Hanton was quiet for a moment. 'Our medicinal capabilities may not be a match for the regenerative prowess of servants, but I assure you that they are more than adequate.'

Medicinal, was it? Hector was curious enough for elaboration on that point, but Garovel decided to intervene with a more pressing question.

'Since you're here, how much do you know about the political situation in Lorent?' the reaper said.

'Ah, yes,' said Hanton. 'This nation is being pulled in multiple directions, at the moment. The political factions here have been split on a variety of subjects for several years now, but primarily, it all revolves around militarization. Lorent has historically relied very heavily on Intar to help secure its borders, but a growing number of congressional representatives have been arguing that Lorent needs to become more militarily independent.'

'I see,' said Garovel. 'And I suppose the war has only been emphasizing that problem for them.'

'Indeed,' said Hanton. 'I believe that this issue with the so-called Beast of Lorent was unifying them temporarily due to how pressing it was, but now that Lord Goffe has apparently taken care of that problem for them, the divisions will return--and quickly.'

Oh. Great.

'Nice going,' said Voreese flatly. 'What were you guys thinking, saving all those innocent people from mutilation and death? Now a bunch of politicians are going to start arguing again!'

Roman smacked his lips. "You're right. We can only apologize for our thoughtlessness."

'I was not trying to blame anyone for anything,' said Hanton. 'I was merely pointing out the facts.'

'And I was merely making an observation,' said Voreese. 'Continue.'

There arrived a sizable pause as Hanton was perhaps considering if she was being serious or not. 'The factions here are numerous, but with the continental war putting pressure on them, I expect some of them will begin compromising and merging in order to gain as much influence in the Lorentian Congress as they can.'

'Were you aware that the Vanguard and Abolish are in this country?' asked Garovel.

'Yes,' said Hanton. 'It was the main reason why I did not make more of an effort to get involved with Lorentian affairs.'

'If you knew about it beforehand, then we would've at least appreciated a heads up,' said Garovel.

'And when would I have been able to do that for you?' said Hanton. 'This trip of yours materialized quite quickly, and I have been extremely busy.'

'Fine, but you could have sent someone else to tell us in your stead,' said Garovel.

Hanton fell quiet at that. 'You are referring to Pauline.'

'Well, I have not formally met her yet myself, but Hector here has. If not her, then were there not other Sparrows whom you could have sent?'

'Hmph.' A gust of wind caused the trees to briefly tremble as Hanton gave a single, harsh flap of his giant wings. 'You ask too much of me, reaper.'

Garovel didn't back down, though. 'My name is Garovel. And if we are to protect Atreya, then we should not ignore resources that are available to us without extremely good reason. I do not think that having your children serve as messengers for vital intelligence would be unreasonably difficult or dangerous.'

Hanton made no response.

'In fact,' Garovel went on, 'it may even be that their lack of roles to play is precisely what motivated Pauline to come all this way without your permission.'

'Do not presume to know my children,' said Hanton. 'They are not sitting at home doing nothing as you seem to think they are. They already have their roles to play.'

'Good to hear,' said Garovel.

It sounded like the reaper wanted to say more, like he wanted to question whether those roles were the "correct" ones, but for whatever reason, Garovel held his nonexistent tongue.

And the silence grew tense again.

Hector abruptly felt like he would have to be the one to get the conversation back on track. "...Do you know anything specific about the Vanguard and Abolish members who are stationed here? How strong they are? Who they report to?"

'I'm afraid not,' said Hanton. 'But if you don't mind, I shall attempt to use this visit of yours as an opportunity to learn precisely that kind of information.'

Voreese gave a short laugh. 'Don't wanna risk it without someone there to protect you in case things go pear-shaped, eh?'

Hanton allowed a beat to pass. 'Yes. Frankly, that is my exact concern.'

'Heh, well, I can't say I blame you,' said Voreese.

'I should hope not,' said the Sparrow. 'Reapers aren't exactly known for their courage, either.'

'True. And I know it's a convenient excuse, but there's only so much we can do without physical bodies of our own to work with.'

'How droll. In any event, while I may not be able to tell you about the other servants in the country, I can at least tell you about the President, if you are interested.'

'Please do,' said Garovel.

However, Voreese answered first. 'His name is Allen Dance, and he was elected under highly unusual circumstances. His opponent, Clark Griffon was the previous President who was running for a third and final term, and by all accounts, it seemed like Dance was going to be crushed in a landslide. But one day before the final debate was to be held, Griffon dropped out of the race with no explanation.'

Hector blinked. Come to think of it, he thought he remembered hearing about some crazy political stuff like that a few years ago.

'Griffon's party nearly dissolved overnight,' Voreese went on. 'They managed to prop up a last minute replacement for him to debate Dance, but Dance absolutely wiped the floor with him.'

'You've been following Lorentian politics,' Hanton observed.

'I do it for all of Atreya's neighbors,' said Voreese.

'How long have you been haunting Atreya?' said Hanton.

Voreese paused. 'That supposed to be an insult?'

'Oh, is "haunting" not the proper word?' said Hanton. 'I meant no disrespect. I would have asked how long you had been "living" there, but that word does not seem appropriate, either.'

'Heh, yeah, well, I guess haunting is fine,' said Voreese.

'We've been known to use that term ourselves occasionally,' added Garovel. 'I think Voreese is just looking for an excuse to get into an argument.'

'Oho! You lookin' to throw down, Gary?'

'Maybe later.'

'Hmph.'

Hanton took hold of the conversation again. 'In any case, as a result of that hectic election, Dance's presidency has been marred by a larger-than-usual amount of distrust among the general public.'

Hector had to ask. "What's your opinion of him?"

'Mine?' said Hanton. 'Well, going on policy alone, I would say that he is actually not doing a bad job. He has an image for being corrupt, but it seems to me that he has worked hard to regain public trust.'

"If the public thinks he's so corrupt, then why did they vote for him in the first place?" said Roman.

'The answer to that would depend on whom you ask,' said Hanton. 'His more extreme opponents would tell you that the public did NOT, in fact, vote for him, and that the entire election was rigged.'

"Hmm," hummed Roman, "but I'm not asking them. I'm asking you."

'Ah. In my view, the public simply viewed him as the better of two bad options. Griffon's replacement was barely even a candidate.'

'Same,' said Voreese. 'I don't think Dance is that bad of a dude. I mean, he might be, but as far I've been able to tell, he hasn't committed any crimes against humanity.'

'I think your standards might be a little too low,' said Garovel.

'Eh, maybe so,' said Voreese. 'But anything less heinous than that should be left for the living to ponder over, don't you think?'

'Perhaps,' said Garovel, 'but I know a rather large amount of reapers who would disagree with you on that particular point.'

'So do I,' said Voreese.

Hanton cut in. 'And I know even more who would only SAY they agreed with you.'

That left a stinging silence in its wake, until Voreese gave a small chortle. 'You know that many reapers, do you? Because I'm pretty sure I know more of 'em than you.'

Hanton made no response.

'I gotta say, though,' Voreese went on, 'I appreciate you havin' the guts to speak your mind. It's the ones who don't that ya really gotta watch out for. So feel free to talk as much shit as you like while I'm around, Mr. Bird. It's what I live for, in fact.'

"It really is," added Roman.

'That is an admirable quality,' said Hanton. 'I think.'

'Thanks.'

'In that vein, please do not call me Mr. Bird again.'

'Aw, c'mon. It's a code name! Since we're in foreign territory! Makes total sense!'

The Lord Gaoalanet just gave a telepathic grumble.

Garovel pushed the conversation onward again. 'So is there anything else we should know about the President?'

'Nothing I would consider terribly urgent,' said Hanton. 'If there were, I--' Hanton cut himself off. 'Someone approaches.'

And indeed, when Hector checked more closely on what the Scarf was telling him, he could sense a lone figure walking briskly toward their group from the direction of the main building. He turned to face the apparent attendant as the man came a stop and gave a hasty bow.

"Lord Goffe. A call for you. Queen Helen of Atreya."

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