15-9. Negotiation

“And who is this impressive young lady?” asked Atticus, releasing Elijah from a massive bear hug. He put his hands on his hips. “She has great potential.”

“Saraalinisa es Vyrin, master Merchant,” she answered with a bow. “Emissary of the Empire of Scale and representative of Prosperity.”

“You are neither of those two things,” Elijah pointed out.

“I might be!” she insisted, backhanding him on the upper arm. There was no force behind the blow. Just sisterly annoyance.

“She’s also my little sister,” Elijah told Atticus.

“Ah. Then she is family!” Atticus bellowed, leaning down to hug Sara as well. He even picked her up. “Welcome to Argos!”

When he released her, Sara told him, “You give pretty good hugs.”

“So I’ve been told,” he said with a wide smile parting his dense beard. Then, he asked Elijah, “What brings you to my city? Business? Pleasure?”

“Eh. I wanted to show Sara around,” Elijah admitted. “But I also have an idea I wanted to run by you. A mutually beneficial business arrangement.”

“Ah – so a bit of both, then.”

After that, he insisted on showing them around town. As he did so, Elijah didn’t miss the assistant following them. Nor the guards shadowing their every move. It shouldn’t have been surprising. Atticus was a wealthy and incredibly important man, so it only made sense that he would surround himself with capable people. Still, it was a new development.

Over the next couple of hours, Atticus showed them the sights. Argos had grown quite a lot since the first time Elijah had visited the city, and almost always for the better. Most of its population seemed prosperous, with most people having benefited from communal success.

It was no socialist utopia – far from it, given that it was run by a cabal of Merchants and Tradesmen – but they’d managed to minimize the usual problems associated with pure capitalism. No slums. Few people were outright poor. Nobody starved, and no one went without their basic needs being met. Which, for now, was probably the best anyone could hope to achieve.

Elijah did recognize a few Adjudicators out and about, though. Despite knowing that they were Sadie’s people, he couldn’t escape the fact that they made him uneasy. Maybe it was just because they’d once tried to tell him what he could and couldn’t do.

He didn’t like that.

Not one little bit.

Which probably said more about him than it did about their nature. Of course, some of his thoughts were stained by the fact that they’d also tolerated Meridian Lux, but he could accept that there were extenuating circumstances there. Sadie wouldn’t have allowed that place to exist if she’d had any choice in the matter.

In any case, Elijah did his best to ignore the Adjudicators. A feat made more difficult when they approached the Temple of Virtue.

“I’ll sit this one out,” Elijah said.

He still hadn’t visited the monument he’d built in memory of his sister. Not since returning from the abyss, at least. He hadn’t consciously avoided it. Instead, he’d pushed it into the back of his mind, largely because sensing the tree inside left him with mixed feelings.

After all, Sadie had branded it with the Chorus of Angels, and in doing so, it had become as much hers as it was his. A living reminder of their ruined relationship, it loomed in the back of his mind like a dark cloud on the horizon.

Atticus dragged Sara up the steps to the top of the hill where the temple sat. Meanwhile, Elijah sat on a nearby bench, his eyes eventually drifting to the statue atop the building. It was meant to depict Alyssa, though it was more like an idealized version of his slain sister. The lines were too clean, too perfect.

Would she be proud of the man he’d become?

Or would she be horrified to learn the things he’d done?

Elijah had reasons for everything, but that must have been true for every villain. It hadn’t been that long ago that he’d tortured a man in the most horrible way he could imagine. That wasn’t the act of a good man.

Did he regret it? No. Not even a little. And ultimately, that reality was what had forced him to question his own character.

As he sat there, he watched traffic going in and out of the temple. Many wore the white-and-green uniforms of the Hartwood Foundation. It had begun as a simple charity, but the amount of money he’d funneled into it was enough to make it a powerful entity in its own right. From what he’d seen, they did a lot of good, but he hadn’t looked too closely.

And he didn’t intend to, mostly because he was afraid of what he might find. People could do great things, but corruption was all but inescapable in any organization. It wasn’t a question of if it happened, but rather, to what degree. Elijah didn’t want to find the truth of that in the Hartwood Foundation. Instead, he was happy to live in ignorance.

Atticus and Sara remained inside the Temple of Virtue for more than an hour, during which time Elijah leaned on his solitude to gain some insight into his own mind. The endeavor was only partially successful and threatened to shatter his sense of mental solidity.

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So, he was grateful to see them descending the steps in his direction. Sara looked happy, which banished some of Elijah’s self-recriminating mood.

When they rejoined him, Sara excitedly recounted what she’d found inside. An infectious attitude that accompanied them all the way back to Atticus’ manor. It had grown even more luxurious since the last time Elijah had visited, and Atticus really rolled out the red carpet for them.

Selene greeted them both with open arms, maintaining a demure countenance that seemed well-practiced. The horde of children were not so restrained, and they clearly remembered using Elijah as a jungle gym. Before long, they were climbing all over him and begging for piggyback rides.

“Is something wrong?” Selene asked Sara.

“I…I don’t know. Is this…is this normal?” she asked.

“They’re not normally so rambunctious.”

Atticus had joined in the roughhousing, tossing a delighted toddler in Elijah’s direction. He caught the squealing girl in soft hands, then spun her around. The other children screamed to go next.

“No. Not that. It’s just…I’m not used to children is all.”

Despite giving most of his attention to the kids, Elijah hadn’t missed the exchange. Nor was he surprised by it. After all, draconic child rearing was very, very different from human norms. After hatching, dragons were sent into the wild, where they lived like beasts until they developed sapience. Sometimes, that could take as long as a century. Other times, it never happened at all.

Somewhere in the midst of all that, they were expected to develop a dragon core. If they did, they became dragons. If not, they were considered drakes. If they remained bestial, they were called wyrms – wild dragons who epitomized the worst and least constrained aspects of draconic traits.

Either way, Sara clearly wasn’t accustomed to seeing children because the concept didn’t really exist among dragons. Not in the same way it did with humans, at least.

And it clearly made her uncomfortable. In a positive way, Elijah believed, but he was aware enough to recognize that she probably didn’t think of it that way. Not with how overwhelmed she was.

So, in the interest of protecting Sara, Elijah cut his roughhousing with the children short. Soon enough, Selene had corralled them and led them to another part of the grounds where they could put their energy to good use. In the meantime, Atticus picked himself up, dusted himself off, and invited them inside.

Eventually, they found themselves in his office, which was decorated in golds, silvers, and dark wood.

“Going for the sultan aesthetic, huh?” Elijah asked.

Atticus chuckled. “Something like that, my friend.” He offered them refreshments, which were soon brought by an attendant. Fruit drinks and roasted pineapple, which was an entirely new experience for Elijah.

“Cinnamon? And is that some kind of pepper?” he asked.

“Chili flakes.”

“Amazing,” Sara mumbled around a mouthful.

Elijah agreed. “No alcohol in the drink, right? Sara’s underage.”

“I’m older than you. Technically.”

“Not according to your culture,” Elijah pointed out. She’d been sapient for less than twenty years, which as far as he was concerned, was enough to keep her from drinking.

Atticus assured him that the fruit drink was alcohol-free, adding, “Selene has been trying to keep me from overindulging.” He patted his stomach, which was still broad but a long way from what his girthiest state. “I know I’ll eventually lose that war, but I fight valiantly each day.”

As if to punctuate the thought, he popped a bit of pineapple into his mouth, savoring the taste for a moment before asking, “So, business? What do you need?”

“This is less about what I need and more about helping you,” Elijah said. “I remember you were talking about expanding to other worlds. Is that still true?”

Atticus shrugged. “We remain in the planning stages.”

“What’s the holdup?”

“Money, my friend. Even with my abilities, travel is exceedingly expensive.”

“What if I told you I could do something about that?” Elijah asked. “Say, to the tune of ninety percent.”

Atticus’ eyes widened. “Are you telling me that?” he asked.

Elijah shrugged. “If I was?”

“Then you would accelerate my plans by more than a century,” Atticus stated. “More. There are many variables that come with such a time frame, and there’s no guarantee that we would be capable of overcoming them. In addition, the price of travel would remain a weight on our shoulders.”

“I can help with that, I think,” Elijah stated before explaining the discount he received because of his Emerald Archon class. After that, he turned to Sara and asked, “Is this workable? I assume your mother doesn’t actually go to the Branch when she needs something, right? She probably has someone that does that for her.”

Sara nodded. “Some classes have the ability to work on behalf of someone else,” she explained. “But it requires a lot of trust.”

Elijah looked back at Atticus. “You’re already doing that with my funds, right? How about we extend that to buying passage to other worlds?” he asked. “It still won’t be cheap, but I think we can make it work. Especially if the discounts compound.”

“They will,” Sara said.

Atticus just stared at him. Finally, after far too long of a pause, he broke into a wide grin. “We are going to make so much money.”

“Not until we work out exactly how this is going to work,” Sara interjected.

“Sara, he’s a friend and –”

“That’s why we need a proper contract,” she persisted, leaning forward eagerly. “To protect everyone involved and ensure that we all know where we stand.”

“She’s right,” Atticus agreed. “I have no intention of cheating you, but without established boundaries, it would be very easy to cross lines. Better to keep things very clear.”

Elijah started to speak, but Sara spoke over him. After that, they engaged in a long and arduous negotiation that Elijah barely heard. The whole thing bored him to death, and he wanted nothing more than to just agree to whatever Atticus wanted. No matter what, they would both make a lot of money. What’d it matter if he got an extra ten percent of the profit? He’d still have enough to do whatever he wanted.

But Sara wasn’t content with that. She negotiated like a veteran Merchant, keeping even Atticus from getting too comfortable. It was like watching a battle, but instead of fighting with swords or spells, the pair used words. By the time the deal was struck, Elijah’s disinterest had faded as he’d gotten caught up in the war of words.

As the pair shook hands, Elijah asked, “So, it’s done?”

“I’ll draw up the contract,” Sara said.

“And I’ll have my people go over it with fine-toothed comb, you little badger!” Atticus declared. “Are you looking for a job, by the way? I could make use of your skills.”

She smiled sweetly. “No, thank you. I have my own plans. But I believe we’ll have occasion to negotiate more in the future.”

“I wish I could say that I look forward to it.”

“If you did, I wouldn’t be very good at my job,” Sara stated.

“True,” Atticus agreed, reaching into one of his desk drawers. He found what he was looking for, then slammed a bottle onto the desk. “Now, we celebrate.”

“I said she can’t drink,” Elijah interrupted.

“The girl negotiates like a wily, old fox. She deserves one drink.”

Elijah sighed. “Fine. One drink.”

Both Atticus and Sara grinned, signaling that Elijah was in trouble.