Chapter 3: Part 2 - A Private War

It felt strange to Jean to be holding the key to the third round of the game in his hands, yet not be able to use it.

It had been a muted trip from Rata Sum to The Grove, the twins keeping their thoughts to themselves and Marissa – for once – doing the same. She still seemed quietly jubilant about the way the last round had ended, but if she’d made further plans, she wasn’t about to share them. In fact, Jean half suspected she was losing interest in the game completely, that it had gone on too long with ever-diminishing rewards. Yinn was toying with them, and for all her talk of fighting back, there might come a time when Marissa decided she no longer cared about him or his competition.

Such was the privilege of wealth and position, after all: the Valparis could walk away from this game without ever finding out what the prize was intended to be. In the end, it made little difference to them, though that wasn’t a thought Jean was particularly comfortable with. Sometimes, he thought his family had too much and everyone around them too little.

Marissa certainly wasn’t interested in the compass. It had been waiting for them on their arrival in The Grove, carried by a bored-looking asura who’d shoved it into Jean’s hands and left without a backward glance. Such a device, wider than Jean’s palm and heavy enough to require two hands, could only have come from Yinn.

And in Jean’s hands it had stayed. Marissa had taken the compass only briefly, turned it over twice, then given it back to him.

“You keep it,” she said dismissively. “I need to focus on tracking Yinn’s people.”

“Like that one who’s just gone back through the asura gate?” Jean asked.

“Of course not. He was far too obvious. We’re being watched, though, and I want to know by whom.”

Jean had as little interest in that as Marissa had in the compass. Yinn was growing warier of his contestants; he wouldn’t again make a mistake like the one that had allowed them to get their hands on Floxx.

The compass, though… That was truly interesting. Its gleaming brass case opened to reveal an ivory-coloured dial, with no less than eight hands; Jean thought there might be nine, but the smallest one was always hidden under another. Most either turned slowly, like the hands of a clock, or swung too quickly to make sense of. Only one spun like a true compass pointer, though not directly north; Jean was certain that was the one to follow.

Which meant first travelling a little to the west of north, until they’d left the city, then either east, west or north to follow the winding road through Caledon Forest. With no other teams in sight and no other leads available to them, even Marissa had agreed moving forwards was better than staying put.

“What do you think it’s tracking?” Jean asked, as the first day ended and they found themselves in a little lakeshore town. “Something another team is carrying?”

“That would mean Yinn had planted something on them,” Oska pointed out, twirling a newly cleaned dagger across his fingers, then slotting it back into its sheath. “More likely, we’re following one of Yinn’s associates.”

Marissa’s gaze snapped towards the compass – and then, a moment later, she shrugged. “It’s possible. This trail is being deliberately laid for us, though. I’m more interested in the ones who are keeping themselves out of sight.”

That, finally, was when Jean saw it. It wasn’t that Marissa was disinterested in the compass; she could see it might be useful. She’d been presented with something she couldn’t immediately solve, though, and in his sister’s usual fashion, she hadn’t the patience to learn. It was a wonder, truly, she’d ever joined the Priory. Jean couldn’t imagine a place less suited to her.

They left the town an hour before dawn, when the sky was turning grey. Marissa sent Oska ahead to scout, but it wasn’t long before he returned to report there was still no sign of any other teams.

“Yinn staggered us leaving Rata Sum,” Jean said, which brought a brief scowl to Marissa’s face. The Valparis, after all, had been one of the last allowed to leave. “He must be making sure we don’t encounter one another for a while.”

Or he was punishing those teams who’d displeased him the most. If Jean was honest, that sounded more like Yinn.

“If that’s the case, it won’t last long,” Marissa said briskly. “Clashing with one another is more interesting than staying apart – and Yinn wants ‘interesting’ above all else.”

Jean couldn’t dispute that. Indeed, Marissa’s confidence was soon rewarded. By mid-morning, the road had begun to slope down into marshland, moss-strung trees lining a jagged path through the stinking water – and ahead of them was another team.

At least, that was Jean’s first reading of the situation. As he looked more closely, he realised there were five figures on the road, just turning a corner.

Oska gave a low laugh. “Found his allies, after all.”

“Yelazar?” Marissa asked, sounding irritated.

“Right. Those other four were all sylvari. Definitely another team – I recognised them from Rata Sum.”

Marissa’s sour expression didn’t fade as they picked their way down the slope and onto the winding road below, half broken cobbles and half boardwalk. The compass pointed firmly in that direction – towards Brisban Wildlands, Jean guessed – but Marissa refused to even look at it.

“I don’t know why you care so much about that necromancer,” Jean said, as he carefully wiped moisture off the compass’ glass face. “Those sylvari are welcome to him.”

Marissa tutted. “He represented an opportunity, Jean. I’m surprised you were so eager to pass that up.”

An opportunity to get themselves stabbed in the back, in Jean’s opinion, but he knew Marissa wouldn’t agree. “We’ve already found an alliance. Don’t you think it’s a stronger one than anything the Carver could offer?”

“It’s an alliance, certainly,” Marissa said dismissively. “I wouldn’t go further than that.”

Jean rolled his eyes, though he made sure his sister didn’t see. She’d got what she wanted out of the Marauders, which meant she’d lost interest in them, too – until they proved themselves useful, anyway. As soon as Marissa could see some advantage in the alliance she’d struck, she’d be the first to exploit it.

“Joining them will be worthwhile,” he said. “You’ll see.”

Marissa didn’t reply and Jean didn’t argue the point further. His sister’s personal vendetta against Yinn was the only thing keeping her in the game, he realised. Winning no longer held any allure – or winning by following the rules, anyway.

She was welcome to her private war, in Jean’s opinion. He looked down at the compass again, still cradled in one hand. Both its physical size and the responsibility of solving its puzzle weighed heavily on him, but he wouldn’t give up easily. The compass still pointed west, in the very direction Yelazar and his allies had gone; at least Marissa couldn’t argue over their route.

Indeed, she strode ahead of the rest of the family, whilst Auri and Oska walked a few paces behind, talking quietly. Marissa took the twins for granted – took all of them for granted, in fact. That was the thing about family, though. Jean couldn’t foresee a situation where they wouldn’t be there for one another, even if he sometimes wished Marissa worked a little harder to deserve such loyalty.

It wasn’t just loyalty that made him determined to honour their alliance with the Marauders, either. As the others drew ahead, Jean fell back a little. He carefully put the compass into his satchel, drawing out a much smaller object instead.

Marissa had given him the communications device as soon as the first round ended. Jean hadn’t dared use it since, not because he thought Yinn might be listening – though he might – but because he hadn’t been sure of the reception he’d get from the other end. They were allied to the Marauders now, though. That gave him a reason to contact Vasha… Didn’t it?

He pressed the button, lifted the device to his lips, and murmured, “This is Jean Valpari. Can anyone hear me?”

Silence. Jean waited, dimly aware that he’d come to a stop and that the rest of his team were now some distance ahead. The device gave a single, brief fizz, then fell quiet again.

He tried once more, repeating the message, but the result was the same.

Slowly, Jean put the device back into his satchel. He could think of two possibilities, neither of them pleasing. Either Yinn had deactivated the devices, which meant they had no reliable way to contact the Marauders – or Vasha had heard and chosen not to answer. Even when he tried to squash his unfulfilled desire to hear her voice again, Jean wasn’t sure which was worse.