Chapter 2: Part 3 - Different Worlds

Vasha watched the Valpari family advance with a sick feeling rising up her throat. More than anything, she didn’t want to see Jean again, but her pride wouldn’t let her hide behind Gull. Besides, a small part of her was curious. Roan had connections in the Priory, but what about the Valparis? What were they doing here?

They halted a short distance away, the Valparis looking every bit as though they’d stepped out of the pages of some fashionable pamphlet in Divinity’s Reach. Vasha couldn’t fathom how they could all look so perfect after trekking through the snows of Lornar’s Pass, but that was the nobility for you. For them, appearances were everything.

It was Jean who broke the silence, with an awkward laugh. “It looks like we all had the same idea. When you’ve got a mystery to solve, what better place to come than the Durmand Priory?”

For the briefest moment, Vasha recalled another time and place, and how Jean’s earnestness in trying to diffuse tense situations had been a window into a future where she might fall in love with him. The memory quickly faded, though. He’d made it quite clear in Rata Sum that he didn’t even understand why their relationship had fallen apart. That was a mystery the Priory would never be able to help him with.

Abruptly, Roan grunted. “I never thought you’d show your face here again.”

He was staring at Marissa, who met his gaze defiantly. Vasha felt her mouth open in surprise as she remembered something else from her past. Hadn’t Jean once told her that Marissa had been a member of the Priory? If Roan had been, too… Was it possible they knew each other? Roan, the sneaky bastard, hadn’t given so much as a hint; by the surprise on Jean’s face, Marissa hadn’t either.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Marissa said smoothly. She glanced briefly at Maille, still standing at Roan’s side, and seemed to dismiss her just as quickly. “If you’re finished here, though, there’s something we ought to discuss.”

“Is there?” Roan started to turn away, as though to speak to Maille before they left, but Marissa’s words stopped him.

“I proposed an alliance, did I not?”

“Is that what you call those threats of yours?” Roan swiped a claw in her direction, which was enough to make Jean step back. Marissa, though, held her ground.

“Call them threats if you like. The wording isn’t important. You can keep picking fights, Roan, but even you should have realised what we’re up against. Neither of our teams is the strongest here, but we do complement each other. If we’re going to win this, we need to work together.”

Vasha knew how much pride a woman like Marissa would have to swallow to admit that. Roan, though, had only derision to show in return. “So you can stab us in the back later? I don’t think so. Quit the game now, if you’re so worried. The Marauders work alone.”

He nodded a farewell to Maille, then strode off without another word. Vasha could feel Jean’s eyes on her, but she hurried after the rest of her team without looking back. Marissa was right – together, their two teams would be unstoppable – but Vasha wasn’t about to tell Roan that. Honestly, she was relieved. The bigger the distance she could keep from Jean and his family, the better.

They marched out into the snow, the cold hitting Vasha’s face with the force of a blow. It felt good to be outside, though, away from the tension of the Priory, and away from scholars she had little in common with. Even Maille, amusing and acerbic, came from a very different world.

Roan led them down the hillside and across the bridge, Gull falling into step beside him. She had the good sense not to ask about Marissa; now, they were all business. “I can’t imagine much lives in Mistriven Gorge, even grawl,” she said, as they began the climb up the other side of the valley. “Unless you can live off snow and rock, this isn’t friendly country.”

“It’s what Maille said,” Roan replied gruffly, and Gull fell silent. It was clear the charr wasn’t in the mood to be questioned.

Still, it wasn’t long before Vasha wished Gull had tried a bit harder. Mistriven Gorge was every bit as forbidding as she’d described, and their only path was a road that cut through a cavern, then followed a perilous wooden walkway along the side of the mountain. Vasha stuck as close to the cliff as she could, but several times Haki had to steady her, and the winds howling down the valley made her feel as though she was about to be plucked off the walkway and tossed into the air.

Eventually, even patient Gull had had enough. “Roan, there are no grawl up here. If there ever were, they’ve moved on. Either we head down into the ravine, or we look elsewhere. Your sylvari friend was wrong.”

“Maille’s never wrong,” Roan growled, but he came to a stop at the edge of the walkway, staring into the shadowed gorge.

He didn’t ask for a suggestion, but Gull gave one anyway. “We should go east. There are decent hunting grounds that way, in the Godspurs and beyond. Maybe we’ll pick up the trail of these grawl.”

Or maybe Maille’s white-rabbit-worshipping grawl had never even existed. Roan seemed to trust her, and from first impressions Vasha had too, but scouring Mistriven Gorge with no further clues seemed like a good way to get themselves killed.

It was Gull who took the lead as they turned east, leaving the gorge behind and passing a hunter’s lodge. She poked her head inside, returning to the party with a frown. “This is Belldron’s Guardholme. I’ve never seen it empty before.”

Roan folded his arms. “Just like you’ve never seen grawl in the gorge, right?”

“Fine.” Gull spat into the snow. “If Maille was right about the grawl, and I’m right about this lodge, then something’s very wrong here. We should have encountered someone by now.”

Vasha shuddered. The entire terrain between the Priory and this lodge had seemed eerily empty, neither grawl, norn hunter – nor white rabbit, for that matter – to be seen.

“Is this something to do with the game?” Vasha asked nervously. “Could Yinn have cleared the area?”

“If he cleared the grawl out too, then Maille was wrong after all,” Gull pointed out. “They can’t be the clue we’re supposed to follow.”

Roan growled something unintelligible. It was Haki who said, “We’ve tried to guess Yinn’s intentions before, and failed. I say we just keep going.”

Keep going until they froze to death or walked off a cliff in a snowstorm? Vasha wanted to argue, but she couldn’t find the energy. Besides, what was the alternative? If they didn’t keep searching for some evidence of this ‘white rabbit’, they might as well forfeit the game right now.

They’d gone only a few minutes beyond the lodge, ever deeper into the rocky hills, when Haki called a halt. Beside him, Frostpaw was growling. “There’s someone ahead.”

There was a rattle and a scrape as weapons were drawn, and Roan ordered them into formation. Vasha readied her pistols, the downward slope so steep she could aim them over Roan’s head. Despite the cold, her hands were steady. Now, if only the Valparis were the ones to come round the corner–

Two asura emerged from behind the shoulder of the hill, then two more. They toiled through the snow as though exhausted, but Vasha could hear their bright voices, chattering amongst themselves. Not only had they not realised they were being observed, but something had them excited.

“Hold,” Roan ordered, and for the first time, one of the asura looked up. He pointed, and the group came to a halt.

“It’s the Nth Degree,” Vasha said, suddenly recognising them. They looked different without their golems, but she couldn’t recall another team of asura in the whole competition. She was surprised they’d made it this far.

She could feel Roan itching to give the command to attack, but as the asura did nothing more than lean in to talk amongst themselves, even he couldn’t be that ruthless. After a moment, one of the asura stepped away from the others, hands held up. A truce.

Roan growled in irritation, but he signalled the rest of the Marauders to stand down. Vasha holstered her pistols with a sigh of relief that the wind whipped away. Without the added complication of the Valparis, the Nth Degree wouldn’t fare well in another fight. In fact, Roan was in such a temper that he might just kill them.

Gull seemed to be thinking the same thing, and stepped forwards herself as the asura approached. “What do you want?” she called.

“To ask if you’re prepared to share information.” The asura came to a stop, his dark grey skin stark against the snow. He was grinning. “We find ourselves in an interesting situation, do we not? ‘Follow the white rabbit’. Quite a conundrum.”

“And you’re the ones to solve it, I suppose?” Vasha asked.

For just a moment, the asura paused. Was he the one she’d stolen the pieces of the key from? Vasha wondered. He probably didn’t remember the encounter fondly.

The asura cleared his throat. “We have procured certain information that might be of use, yes.”

Gull folded her arms. “Go on, then.”

“First, a deal. We’ll tell you where the white rabbit can be found – if you will help us obtain it.”

Gull looked back over her shoulder, an eyebrow raised. Roan only stared at her; Vasha shrugged. What did they have to lose?

The asura seemed to take that as an agreement, and clapped his hands together. “Excellent. The White Rabbit is a weapon, of undetermined character. We believe it to be in the possession of one of the steam creatures in the valley below. A most perplexing place to hide the next clue, certainly, but it seems to lie within the parameters set out by Yinn thus far…”

The asura kept talking, but Vasha was no longer listening. Her attention was fixed on Roan, who’d gone so tense he looked like a single exhalation would start an avalanche. When he spoke, it was through clenched teeth. “Who told you that?”

Despite being interrupted, the asura didn’t seem perturbed. “One of the scholars in the Priory camp over the hill. They’re more interested in Deldrimor artifacts, I believe, but a sylvari there told us–”

“A sylvari?” Gull’s voice was sharp. “Which one?”

For the first time, the asura looked exasperated. “A purple one. Mara or Malen or some such. Those shrubs all look the same to me.”

Roan’s snarl was enough to cut the asura off properly. He swung back to the Marauders, the Nth Degree forgotten. Vasha found herself holding her breath. How could Maille have given different information to two teams, when she’d promised to speak only to the Marauders? For that matter, how had she passed them to reach the Priory camp on the other side of the hill in time to meet the Nth Degree there? Nothing out here made sense.

Vasha could see Roan wasn’t thinking that deeply, though. All he could see was a potential betrayal – and by the look on his face, he was going to make sure it didn’t happen again.

“Roan–” Gull started, but the charr wasn’t listening.

“Form up,” he ordered, starting back up the slope before Vasha could even pull her feet out of the snow. The asura’s bewildered questions rang in her ears as she turned, but it was Roan’s words she heard most clearly. “We’ve got a visit to pay.”