“Good morning, Lou. There have been developnts.”
I’d imagine most people would be thrilled to have a beautiful woman waiting to welco them ho. Geneva looks particularly radiant standing in the brilliant sunlight, the classic Teppin estate behind her. She looks softer than usual, dressed in a sleeveless white shirt and a light brown skirt. If not for the gray skin, horns, and hooves, I could easily mistake her for the village beauty that sparks every hero’s journey, her smile charming them into slaying dragons if it ans gaining her favor.
If only. But if she was, she wouldn’t be posed to deliver valuable information.
“Do not forget.”
“I won’t.”
With my assurance, Orum walks away, circling around the building. He’s right. I need to talk with Kierra. Probably Morgene too. Till now, I’ve taken the quirks of the Atainna blood as strange traditions that are terrifying yet strangely sexy. If I’m going to raise the descendant of a matriarch properly, I need to know what I’m getting into. Saints, before that, I need to know what’s going on in my bedroom.
Geneva wouldn’t be waiting for if it wasn’t urgent.
I motion for her to follow as I walk toward the kitchen. Finding an overflowing fruit bowl, I grab it and hop onto the counter. “What’s going on?”
“The rebels are making a move.”
That’s a surprise. I would have thought the Traditionalists would have been the first to act. One of their secret caches has already been found. I would think they’d be eager to get to the rest.
“You’re not wrong. While they remain steadfast in their efforts to deter , I’ve managed to gleam a few details. They’ve been restless. The divide between the Traditionalists and the ignorant hunters they’ve pulled to their side is growing. The foot soldiers are getting antsy sitting around a makeshift camp while others are working to reclaim their hos. They want to act and they’re tired of being kept in the dark.”
“Sounds like the Trads need to use them or lose them.”
“Mm. Except, they are more loathed to move than ever. As always, they remain wary of catching your attention, but now they’re also afraid of drawing the attention of the crown. They desperately want to reclaim their treasure but will not risk it falling into the wrong hands.”
“Except that bird’s already taken flight. Soone already raided one of their caches.”
Geneva smiles. “It seems the locations are divided among the elites of the Traditionalists. Whoever discovered the first doesn’t appear to know the locations of the others. Otherwise, they would have taken advantage of the chaos to retrieve the rest.”
“Makes sense.”
“However, the rebels are going to force their hand. Sin has rallied his forces. He plans to assault the Traditionalist camp.”
I set my fruit bowl down, unable to continue casually eating. “…that’s going to be a bloodbath. I’m not sure on which side.” The Trads have the elites but, according to my succubus, the rebels are led by a madman. A cunning one. I don’t think he’d let his people die a pointless death.
“What’s the chances Sin has the missing pieces of the Authority?”
“Unlikely. I haven’t heard a single whisper and that is not an easy thing to hide, especially for an undisciplined group.”
“Then what in the Abyss is going on?”
“The rebels are scattered. Sin himself is elusive. I have no idea what’s in his mind. It is already a challenge to track their greater movents.”
My fingers drum on the counter. Should I ask her to hunt Sin down? No, why am I trying to intervene? This has nothing to do with . Nothing to do with the refugees I feel so small obligation too. If the hunters want to kill themselves over an ancient treasure that I’ll never let them keep, why should I intervene?
“What are you proposing?”
Geneva smiles, wide and vicious. “I believe it would be best to quietly observe events and follow Sin. Even his location is vital information. I’m sure the royal knights attempting to subdue his group would be interested.”
I turn the situation over, trying to find any faults. The only way I can imagine this coming back to bite us is if the people who know about the locations of the Authority end up dying. If we want to find the thing in a tily manner, we need them to lead us there. Would Sin kill them? He seems interested in it as well. But then again, madman.
“Pay attention to anyone the Trads go above and beyond to protect.”
“To ensure the keepers of the Authority live to take us to their treasure? Of course. But I would also suggest you get involved, my summoner.”
“Why in the saints’ nas would I do that?”
“Simple. You are the owner of this city. As you would rather not have it burned down in your absence, you must work on your reputation.”
I scoff. “There’s no repairing my reputation.”
“You underestimate yourself and the instincts of the weak. As your wife said, the only wolf the sheep doesn’t fear is the one that protects them from other predators. I have an idea.” Her smile turns sly. “Thankfully, the rebels have offered themselves up as the perfect target. The people fear you the way they fear a storm. You are untouchable, a force they can only hope passes them by. The rebels are like unruly kids causing trouble in the neighborhood. They want to smack upside the head, if only they could get their hands on them.”
I chuckle at the comparison. “I don’t disagree with either of you.” I intend for the new and improved city guards to keep the city from burning down…but I suppose a bit of outreach couldn’t hurt. “I can’t just drop a bunch of heads at their feet and expect them to sing my praises.”
“With the proper arrangents, it would make quite the impression.”
Of what, so abyss spawn they have to appease with sacrifices? “Fine. I won’t be dropping heads at their feet.” I’ve got standards. Rolly isn’t going to get her wish and turn into a villain right out of the theatre. “I assu you’ve got a better idea.”
“I do. Taking another quote from your wife, there is no distinction like military distinction. You should lead the hunters in the camp against the rebels. Fight alongside them. Save a few. They won’t forgive you? Who cares? You don’t want their forgiveness. You don’t need them to like you. But they need to earn your trust. If they can, if they prove themselves worthy, then you will guide them to a grand future.”
Make them feel they have to be worthy of living in my city? Ugh. Sohow that feels…sleazy. It’s the kind of logic bastards like the Grimoires, nobles drunk on their power, might use. But what’s the alternative? We’re not the sa. That’s not my ego talking for . For my sake, for the sake of my clan, for everyone’s sake, I can’t ignore the difference in my status. In my saints’ damned biology.
Is there so way to turn my actions around, redeem myself in the eyes of the common people? Maybe. If there isn’t, I’d bet all my wealth that the succubus in front of could invent one. But I’m not interested in it. I’m not interested in serving the people. So, if I won’t be under them and we’re not equal, that only leaves one place. Above them.
“That can work. In fact, we can hit a few birds with the sa arrow.” I’m not the only one who needs validation. “This would be a good ti to introduce the Temple to the people as sothing other than a bunch of crazy monster huggers. And there’s a certain hero I need to test to make sure he’s fit for the job of protecting Quest.”
“There is another option.”
“Oh?”
“You could have one of my kin run the city in your absence.”
A city run by a succubus? Saints, I can’t imagine. Any disorder would be short-lived. So would any individual thoughts and dreams. If a succubus is pulling the strings, things will happen exactly as they’re ant to and woe to anyone that tries to buck the carefully laid plans. The useful will be used on tight leashes. The useless? Kept like livestock. Probably well-cared for livestock, with plenty of feed and clean pens, but I truly can’t imagine free will and opportunity blossoming.
Still…
“I’ll think on it,” I say while walking away. “Stay on it. Try to give at least a day’s warning if you can.”
“As you wish, my summoner.”
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