51. Let Me Explain

Against my better judgment, I have to leave the mana stones back in the room. Rather than putting the high heels back on, though, I just carry them by the straps in one hand and go barefoot. It’s not like anybody is going to care, and it’ll be easier to move around without them if we have to. That said, if we do have to, we’re probably in bigger trouble than we can actually get out of, so it’s mostly just to ease my nerves.

When I step outside, the woman from before just starts walking, expecting me to follow behind her. As I do, I take in my surroundings. I have to assume that this is the Gaa family estate, and aside from the doors locking from the outside, it looks like a pretty nice guest house. We’re on the ground floor, and rather than an indoor hallway, we make our way along a wooden loggia that reminds me of...some kind of foreign architecture from back home. The name escapes me.

I wonder if the prevalence of open structures and courtyards in Fa’aun architecture is because of the warm climate—though from what I’ve heard, it gets very cold in the winter. The courtyard is pretty and green, and the smell of fresh grass and flower blossoms is carried on a warm breeze.

Nicest prison I’ve ever been in.

“So, I’m Maev Allison,” I introduce myself to the woman as we walk. “Though you probably already knew that. You don’t lock up random strangers, after all.”

She gives me a sidelong glare, then sighs. “Please relax, Miss Maev. It is not our intention to imprison you. My mother will explain more. I am Lady Lori Gaa Baanu, second daughter of Lady Gaa.”

“So was I just accidentally locked into that room, then?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“You should be grateful to receive our hospitality,” she replies coldly. “Do not be rude.”

“Oh, sure, sure,” I say, nodding amiably. “Thanks for kidnapping and imprisoning me. Sorry for being so ungrateful.”

Lori clenches a fist at her side and purses her lips. I’m probably pushing it by antagonizing her like this, but if she’s going to use a facade of civility as a shield, then I’ll keep poking holes in it. If she throws that shield away, I might be in trouble, but for now I’ll take a chance on the fact that she genuinely thinks she’s being benevolent.

“I don’t appreciate the sarcasm,” she hisses. “I’ve already said that you are mistaken. Wait for Lady Gaa to explain, and speak of it no more.”

Hmm. Interesting that she usually refers to her mother as “Lady Gaa.” It’s oddly formal compared to how Talla and Rara are with their mom. Tamara is severe and intimidating, but she still treats her daughters with genuine warmth, and vice versa. Is the Gaa family more distant?

I’ve bothered Lori enough for now, so I won’t press her on it. If we end up stuck here for a while, I should be careful not to aggravate our captors too much.

Lori leads me deeper into the estate, where her hoofsteps echo against the marble tiles. It’s eerily quiet. No staff, no other guests or family members, just the two of us walking in silence.

“Where is everybody?” I ask.

“Elsewhere,” she replies tersely. “Lady Gaa has ordered this wing of the estate to be cleared.”

“Why?”

“Ask her yourself,” she sighs, stopping next to an ornate wooden door and gesturing for me to enter. “The matriarch awaits within.”

I step inside, and Lori closes the door behind me rather than following me in. As the latch clicks shut, I feel an odd pressure in my ears, like they are just about to pop.

“There’s some kind of magic here,” Maggie informs me. “Hard to place, but it’s filling the whole room and the door is the origin.”

Well that’s not weird or concerning at all. The room itself isn’t anything out of the ordinary—more alchemical lamps for lighting, some religious frescos, and a low table with colorful cushions surrounding it for seating. The Goa estate has tons of rooms like this for private meetings, though this one feels a lot more private.

Across the table, Lady Arelii Gaa Baanu sits on her hooves with her head lowered and her eyes closed in an almost meditative pose. As I enter, she looks up and smiles warmly.

“Maev Allison,” she greets me, even using my full name despite how hard it is for Fa’aun to pronounce. She nails it, too. “Welcome to my home. Please, make yourself comfortable.”

She gestures across the table and I purse lips as I take the offered seat. I briefly debate whether to sit in the Fa’aun style or not, but decide to test her offer to make myself comfortable and sit cross-legged instead.

“Matriarch Arelii Gaa Baanu. To what do I owe the pleasure of your kidnapping?”

Rather than get offended, she just chuckles.

“You’re quite erudite for someone who’s only just recently learned our language.”

“I’ve been practicing.”

Lady Gaa inclines her head in acknowledgement. “I do apologize for any unpleasantness. I feared I might not get another opportunity to speak with you privately.”

I cross my arms and frown. “You could have just tried asking.”

“I did,” she replies coolly. “Several times. I suppose my sister-in-law has not been forwarding my invitations, which is why I had to take more drastic action. It was important that I speak to you without her or my niece, Talla, present.”

“Why? And how did you manage to get me away from Draga, anyway? I, uh, don’t remember that.”

She cocks her head and sighs. “It was more difficult than I anticipated, actually. Distracting him with a horde of aggressive suitors targeting Lady Tara was simple enough, but you were rather...attached.”

I blush and avert my eyes. Dang it, that must have been Evie clinging to him.

“To make matters worse,” she continued. “I had only intended to whisk you away long enough to have a private conversation last night. May I assume that you do not recall meeting me then?”

Oh for—really?!

“Yeah, uh...sorry, I guess I was pretty out of it,” I admit.

“Combining whisper tea and alcohol in excess will do that,” she replies kindly. “So I was forced to adjust my plans, somewhat, and brought you back here as a guest.”

“Which I took in stride, because I was drunk out of my mind,” I groan.

“No need to be ashamed, Miss Maev,” Lady Gaa reassures me. “You’re far from the only one of Lady Biyu’s guests to leave in such a state, and your excesses pale in comparison to what some of my cousins can get up to. It has made things somewhat inconvenient, however.”

“You still haven’t told me why it was so important to speak to me that you had to resort to kidnapping me.”

She purses her lips and casts her gaze downward, where she awkwardly fidgets with her hands. Either she’s nervous about something, or this is a very calculated display of vulnerability. After meeting Tamara, it’s hard to tell. Knowing that Rara’s social skills are backed up by [World Engine] skills also makes me worry about what kind of mechanism-backed powers I should worry about in a conversation like this.

Maybe I should have taken that [Social Butterfly] class after all...

“The truth is that it requires me to admit something rather shameful about my family—something precious few know about and fewer still understand.”

For once, I think I need to keep my mouth shut here. I think she’s talking about the whole “purposely keeping a convergence point unmanaged in order to cause a dungeon-borne to appear” thing, but it’s just as likely that her vague statements are an invitation for me to reveal how much—or little—I know.

She doesn’t seem bothered by my silence, proceeding of her own accord after gathering her thoughts.

“House Gaa has always held close ties to the Church of the Great Wheel. By tradition, our first daughters always become priestesses. We are directly descended from the first empress.”

I have no idea what that means or how verifiable that claim is. I’m sure that’s got some important historical significance, but I just don’t have the context for it.

“However,” she continues, “the church has undergone many fractures and changes over the centuries, and our family has not always found itself on the right side of those schisms. Generations ago, some of the house fell in with an unsanctioned sect of the church.”

“A cult?” I suggest, unable to help myself.

She nods. “Just so. Those elements have long since been purged, but even today we suffer from the damage they did in the meantime.”

I prop my elbow on the table and rest my chin in one hand. “You don’t seem to be suffering that much to me. You’re the richest and most influential family in the empire.”

“That is our reputation, yes,” she sighs. “But as traditionalists, our influence has been waning in this era of innovation and progress. The black mark on our history isn’t well known, but has caused trouble in other ways. Most saliently to this conversation—one of my ancestors was responsible for bringing the being known as ‘The Alchemist’ into this world.”

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise before I can help it. “What?!”

That’s way more than just a rumor. Arelii is saying that not only is The Alchemist definitely dungeon-borne, but that her family is behind him.

“I’m afraid I don’t know how or why,” she says. “Many of the records were lost when the cult was purged, but I’m quite certain that they were involved. I know this because the same ancestor who conducted said purge is also the matriarch responsible for the plot that brought you here. My grandmother of four generations, Lady Glaadi Gaa Baanu.”

That’s the Fa’aun way of saying her great great grandmother. Once again, I have to assume she’s inviting me to let on that I know something about that, so I hold my tongue. Not too much, though.

“What plot?”

She shakes her head. “I wish I could tell you more. Despite what I’m sure my sister-in-law has told you, my family hasn’t had control of that plan for decades.”

I raise an eyebrow, but she holds up a hand to preempt me.

“Let me explain,” she says. “I know that Lady Glaadi sought to use a dungeon-borne as a weapon to counteract The Alchemist’s influence. She worried he would erode the values we hold dear and undermine the church. What I, the church leadership, and every Gaa matriarch to come after her do not understand is how she expected to accomplish this. It’s as though she was trying to put out a fire by pouring oil onto it.”

Yeah, I can see why she’d think that. I’m probably the most conservative person in this head, aside from Evie, and I’m still way more progressive than just about any Fa’aun I’ve met. Tamara’s idea that we’d be another source of progress and innovation to compete with The Alchemist sort of makes sense, but as a way to cancel him out? I don’t really see it. Either those ancestors of hers knew something we don’t, or they were nuts.

“Okay, so you shut down that project?” I ask.

“Not me, specifically, but yes,” she answers. “Glaadi had control of the church inquisitors at the time, but after her death, a new high inquisitor was appointed and the project was firmly cancelled.”

“Yet here I am.”

“Indeed. Someone continued the plan in secret.”

How convenient.

“And you have no idea who?” I ask.

Lady Gaa frowns. “I have many ideas, each more concerning than the last,” she says. “That is why I had to speak to you. I do not know how deep the conspiracy runs, or who may be involved. You are among the few involved who I can trust to be entirely neutral.”

“Okay, and?” I reply sardonically. “I may be neutral, but I’m also completely powerless. Case in point—you were able to kidnap me out of a busy party and nobody even noticed.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” she giggles. “Your absence will have been noticed immediately, and Lady Talla’s magic is very difficult to hide from. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to hold you here longer than a day or two.”

“Then what do you want from me?”

“Help,” she answers simply. “I admit that I fear what sort of impact your influence might have—one Alchemist is bad enough—but I am far more concerned about the forces that brought you here. At a minimum, the inquisitors are complicit. They are the only faction of the church who knew the full details of Glaadi’s plan, but they could not have engineered this alone.”

I chew on my lip, considering. She could just be lying, of course, but this has given me a lot more to think about. There is one thing that I’m curious enough about to risk leaking some info to a potential enemy.

“The inquisition,” I say, drawing out the words slowly as I piece my question together. “Are they the kind of faction to view dungeon-borne like me as demonic?”

“Possibly,” she replies. “They are a fairly independent faction, and among the most militant and conservative within the church. House Gaa’s influence within the church has been waning for a long time, but we have next to none within that faction. Why?”

“Last time I was kidnapped, the ones who did it kept calling me a demon,” I tell her. “I was drunk then, too, and killed them all in an explosion.”

Well, one of them was stabbed by Vi and another was shot—possibly by their own ally? That whole night was kind of a mess. But who’s counting?

“Is that what became of my daughter’s vehicle?” she asks. “I was wondering why nobody would give me the full story.”

Oops. “Uh...sorry?”

“I don’t blame you,” she says, waving me off. “Kiera’s fascination with new technologies was always a point of contention between us. I only wish...”

She trails off for a moment before clearing her throat and wiping her eyes.

“Anyway—we aren’t here to discuss that,” she says flatly. “If what you say is true, then I suspect those people were at least tangentially involved with the inquisition. That is precisely the sort of information that you are uniquely positioned to collect. This mess was created by my ancestor, and whoever is behind it now seems inclined to place it in my lap. I need your help to clean it up before that can happen.”

“And how can I do that?”

“You’re likely to be contacted or approached by many of those I suspect,” she replies. “Aside from the inquisition, there’s the Order of Rangers. As the church’s control of convergence points has waned, the empire has leaned more and more upon the Rangers as their stewards. They seem a likely candidate for involvement.

“I fear I must also call House Goa into question. Tamara has always been a capable spymaster, but she knows more than I think she should. It seems an unlikely coincidence that Talla’s ranger team would just so happen to join Kiera’s expedition.”

“Speaking of which,” I hedge. “Doesn’t that expedition itself make you suspicious?”

“I can see why you might think so,” Lady Gaa says. “But I only learned of this plot fairly recently, and I sent Kiera to investigate and confirm my suspicions. At the time, I had no reason to be suspicious of Lady Talla—if anything, I was grateful that my daughter would be in such capable hands. Now...I’m not sure what to think.”

Neither am I. Obviously I still trust Talla, but this web just got a whole lot more tangled.

“Anybody else?”

“It’s a more distant concern, but given his origins and penchant for secrecy, the Alchemist is always a concern. I suspect his involvement is oblique, if indeed he is involved at all. After so long, I can only consider him to be a passive threat at most.”

“And, what, you want me to spy on them for you?”

“Essentially, yes,” she confirms. “I do not know what the architects of this conspiracy have planned for you, but I’ve little reason to think it’s pleasant. Help me to root it out, and I will do everything in my power to repay you. Sponsorship, employment, education—if I can navigate my family through this disaster without further loss of life or reputation, I promise that you will want for nothing.”

She seems earnest, but I don’t know. There’s just so much to consider, and I really don’t trust her enough to take everything she’s saying at face value. At the same time, I kinda feel guilty about her daughter, and if what she’s saying is true then I’d want to help her even without the promise of unimaginable riches.

“I’ll need to think about this,” I answer honestly. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“I understand,” she sighs. “Just keep my offer in mind.”

Lady Gaa slides what looks like a coin across the table.

“If you ever need to contact me, this token will serve as proof,” she explains. “You can show it to any guard or member of the clergy—or, of course, anybody within our city district—and they will help you.”

I accept the token, a little disc of gold filigree in the shape of some kind of crest.

“That’s it, then?” I ask. “Keep an eye out for anything that confirms your suspicions and then come contact you?”

“Exactly. It’s best if we have as little association as possible until then,” she says. “I would have preferred for this entire meeting to remain secret, but this will do.”

“And...you’re letting me go?”

“It was never my intention to hold you,” she replies. “In fact, I expect Lady Talla is already here to collect you by now. My daughter will show you to her.”

I stand to leave, but hesitate, turning back. “One other thing. What about Draga’s tribunal?”

Her expression darkens. “That’s an entirely separate matter,” she says. “I will see justice for what happened to Kiera. But...” she looks down and sighs. “If you can prove that he is not involved, and help me exonerate my family—I might be convinced to take a more lenient approach.”

“Alright,” I say, keeping my tone carefully neutral. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I ask.”