He clicked his tongue. Even this spider was disinclined to sneer at the magnitude of this loss. Each mage he’d mentioned had no substitute on the front lines and, even in the back, had been indispensable in replenishing their forces. He had no intention of diminishing that work.
Thus, the full force of his scorn was devoted to the unacceptable failure of the witch who’d been in a position to prevent their loss—yet had not.
Aware of his feelings, Denis said, “Too soon to say if three deaths will be the end of it. But either way, well worth sending Farquois in there now. If there’s a fire burning, they’ll dampen it; if not, it still suggests their arrival is what put an end to the matter.”
“Precisely. And it gives the impression Esmeralda could not resolve things on her own. Even if it actually was already over.”
Walch’s lips curled in a sneer.
Louisa had been listening absently, her eyes unfocused, but now she said, “What I followed of that was amusing. Basically…she’s in deep shit? That’s nice. That’s very nice.”
She smiled, as if that was all she needed to hear. No effort to disguise her malice, her attitude going beyond honest into downright innocence. Like a child laughing because someone they hated had messed up. Far past attempting to curtail such impulses.
Inhaling a third puff of smoke in a nigh death euphoria, Louisa thought, When did I get this simplistic? When I was unlucky enough to survive getting part of my brain blown out in battle? Or when my house’s deepest desire turned my body into a show window for enchanted eyes? I’m no longer sure. It doesn’t matter. Perhaps I’m a bit stupider. But life is so much easier now.
“It’s going well, then,” the warlock said. “But this gives Farquois unnecessary status and credit. I have no intention of underestimating their charm—keep a tight collar on them.”
Walch folded his arms, looking sour. “Esmeralda would merely silence a lesser pawn. With that in mind, we have to turn a blind eye to their antics—to a degree. I’m sure you’re well aware they’ve long had a disturbing enthusiasm for Kimberly’s labyrinth. Once Esmeralda is pried from the headmistress’s seat, we’ll allow them to study those depths—that’s the deal I struck,” he explained. “Even I have to admit they’re a mage worthy of the great sage moniker. Yet, that also means I recognize they care more about their own research than anything else and will not lightly relinquish the right to progress it. Especially if doing so would risk us turning on them.”
Walch was firm on this point. And he had one more.
“But there are always exceptions. If they use this position to attempt to take control of Kimberly, then I’ll go there myself to take them down. Or I’m not Alphonse ‘Arachne’ Walch. Or is that still not enough for you, ‘Judge’ Albright?”
Arachne put his pride on the line, but the warlock to end all warlocks, head of the Five Rods, Victor Albright did not even flinch.
“Being as cautious as you are is a virtue,” Denis said, his cloudy eyes turning toward their leader. “But high time you agreed, Victor. Even if Farquois goes a bit too far, they’re not gonna get the better of Gilchrist.”
Denis was backing Walch from his own perspective. The Supreme Witch of a Thousand Years—the mere mention of her name made the room grow tense. A fact that Denis seemed to find amusing.
“Allow me to repeat myself, though I’m sure you’re all sick of hearing it. Eight times. Eight! I have gone up against her and been cut to ribbons. Laugh away! It’s now a show we put on once a century. It is what it is. She’s a monster, pays no heed to me, to those swarms of reapers, to the very passage of time— Ha! And you think she’ll be foiled by a youth not yet three hundred? Don’t make me laugh. The richest of all delusions.”
Denis slapped his knee. A joke at his own expense but backed by a vehemence even the Five Rods head could not ignore. Even in her drug-addled state, Louisa did not dare speak. She felt on her skin that doing so would mean her head leaving her shoulders.
A long silence lingered. The sort of calcified silence that took tremendous willpower to break. Once he deemed enough time had passed, Walch did just that.
“We’ll all admit: Esmeralda’s lead was an effective choice to quell the tumult that followed the loss of Two-Blade. But her task has come and gone. She cannot prevent rifts between the faculty beneath her—proof her powers are waning. We should drag her down now. While she’s still capable of returning to the field as a Gnostic Hunter.”
A weighty declaration. He, too, was highly focused, attempting to persuade Victor. His true motives revealed themselves beneath that thick layer of contempt, which Denis took as a sign he was too young. Yet, he was disinclined to criticize or jeer, aware the other Five Rods were not a thousand-year-old vintage like himself. Walch had yet to swallow anything like the filth Denis had choked down. Meaning that there was still a trace of virtue buried deep in those inflamed guts.
“……”
Watching the leaf burn itself out, Louisa closed her eyes and opened them again. That alone cleared her stupor, and she was once again a Gnostic Hunter.
Better to be arrogant, then. As haughty as she could be. That was the baseline requirement for the four of them to match Judge’s rigidness. Only when they balanced him out did the Five Rods begin to function.
“…It’s the spice they need. That woman won’t lie down and let the sage take over. Let them pull each other’s sleeves. Not like I have any love for either.”
“Hrr-hrr-hrr-hrr…!”
The specter quivered again. With this creature alone, that was all the indication of intent they required. More than any words could accomplish, this demonstrated that they were the ones who should be feared. Judge would not bend on that point—and so he nodded. This place bore the Five Rods’ name; therefore, he was obligated to show the arrogance befitting the head of the Gnostic Hunters. Much as he had demanded—and still demanded—of his young son.
“Very well,” Judge said. “I’ll acknowledge I have no specific concerns about the great sage at present. On to the next topic: the great conjunction with Uranischegar next year. How will the Sacred Light move to prepare? Speak your views.”
The mood shifted to something more productive. Tapping a finger to the side of his hooked nose, Denis went first.
“A Pentagon—Evit—was spotted in McFarlane’s territory. One of a number of suspicious actions all over the place. But it doesn’t feel like next year’s their main goal. They’re forever showing glimpses to keep us on our toes. We lack anything definitive to suggest a large attack.”
“The augers aren’t giving us much,” Louisa said. “I’d say next year’s unlikely myself. Lacking the pieces for a proper summon?”
“Mostly in agreement…but the rate of gates opening will go up. Like any standard year, there’s bound to be at least one major incursion. I’d like our intelligence division to dig a little deeper, ensuring they don’t hit us from behind during that. Naturally, I’m aware of how risky it is to send spies into a Gnostic group.”
Walch wasn’t missing the chance to press this argument. The inadequacies of their intelligence division had been a long-standing issue for the Gnostic Hunters; they were an extremist group, and that lent itself poorly to the delicate communication required to infiltrate. Since Victor took over, they’d at last founded a specialist division and begun training the rare candidate with any aptitude for it. To protect a world without changing it, they’d have to change themselves—a contradiction staring them in the face.
After three hours of furious debate, the topic wound down. Fresh from the field, Louisa was looking exhausted.
Denis made a show of rubbing his back. “These long sessions take their toll on these old bones,” he muttered, but the ravings of a warlock were not worth listening to.
Point-blank ignoring him, Louisa leaned back in her chair, eyes on the ceiling. Every enchanted eye on her followed that gaze.
“I’d say that’s enough. Too much formal talk! Let’s throw in something light before we split. Walch, how fares the new blood?”
The spider looked annoyed but answered readily enough.
“I scoped out the training, and they’re coming along well. A few caught my eye.”
“What about them?” she asked, prodding a hazy memory. “The two with the biggest attitudes at the start? They were Kimberly kids, right?”
Denis chuckled. Those they talked about were unaware they’d already been marked as nails worth hammering down.