The Hornet's Nest: Part 1

The Order of Whispers was not, in Caolinn’s experience, the most friendly of organisations. They had many other fine qualities, of course, from their competence to their ruthlessness, but they weren’t the sort of group that welcomed new members with open arms, trumpets blaring and banners unfurled. It took subtlety to make an impression on them, but at least subtlety was one thing Caolinn was eminently good at.

Most of the time.

The human woman sitting across the scarred wooden table didn’t once twitch or shuffle as she studied Caolinn; in fact, she barely blinked. A single sheet of pristine paper lay between her outstretched arms. She didn’t glance at that, either, despite the fact they’d been sitting there, by Caolinn’s estimation, for a good twenty minutes. In silence.

Finally, the woman – Agent Mala, Caolinn knew her name was, though she hadn’t introduced herself – cast a long, measured glance down at the paper. “It takes nerve, I suppose, to walk in here as if you own the place.”

It took nerve, too, to sit before an Order of Whispers Agent, in complete silence, and offer nothing more than a smile. Caolinn thought they both knew that, though it was starting to make her jumpy. Even years of spycraft couldn’t entirely prepare you for this.

Mala looked up again, meeting Caolinn’s gaze. “You couldn’t have gone through one of the official channels?”

Caolinn let her smile grow wider. “I came in through the front door. What’s more official than that?”

For the first time, Mala looked as though she might be fighting a smile of her own. “True. Most of our new recruits are more discreet than that, though… Or they simply don’t have the guts.”

“Oh, this one’s got guts. Our old friend Darr only takes the best.”

The voice was a purr from the darkness, self-assured and knowing, but that wasn’t what made the shiver run down Caolinn’s back. No, that was the fact she hadn’t even known there was anyone else in the room.

By the sudden tension in her shoulders, it looked as though Agent Mala hadn’t known, either, which was some small consolation. She looked to be caught between feigning insouciance and jumping to her feet, but in the end said stiffly, “Lightbringer Nairne,” and stayed where she was.

Caolinn resisted the urge to look over her shoulder. Mala’s gaze moved sideways, as though the Lightbringer was moving, but Caolinn couldn’t hear even a whisper of footsteps. She wanted to ask, too, how this woman knew Darr, but perhaps it was best to keep her mouth shut.

Finally, Nairne circled around the table, her eyes fixed on Caolinn. She was sylvari, of medium height and with a plume of yellowish-red leaves crowning her head. There was, in truth, nothing remarkable about her, except for the apparent apprehension with which Mala regarded her.

Finally, Caolinn could stand it no longer. “Do you know Darr well?”

Nairne’s smile turned brittle, and Caolinn didn’t think that was because she’d dared to speak. “There are few amongst the Order who don’t know of your master in some capacity,” the Lightbringer said finally, “though I suppose you could say I was better acquainted than most.”

Curious, and cryptic. Caolinn knew she was unlikely to get much more. “Then you’ll know my training has been impeccable.”

Across the table, Mala was pulling an alarmed expression, as though urging Caolinn not to speak. Too late for that, though she was beginning to wonder what sort of hornet’s nest she’d stepped into.

“Oh, I’ve no doubt of that.” Nairne stepped closer, leaning over Caolinn with shining eyes. “The sneaking and the spying, the listening at keyholes and picking apart lies – Darr was always an artist when it came to those. It’s all the rest I’m wondering about. The treachery, the betrayal, the backstabbing. How much of that has he taught you, too?”

A good spy was never supposed to let slip there was anything they didn’t know, but Caolinn couldn’t entirely conceal her surprise. Treachery? Betrayal? She’d always thought Darr left the Order of Whispers because he chose to, because he didn’t approve of them joining the Pact.

But that was terribly naive, she realised now. The Order of Whispers wasn’t the sort of organisation you simply walked away from. The fact that Darr had been living in seclusion, even secrecy, for so long ought to have told her that. Yes, he’d made his base right under their noses, but for all his bravado, he’d never gone out of his way to antagonise them since. It was as if, Caolinn reflected, Darr wanted the Order to remember he existed, but never to give them an excuse to do any more than that.

She cleared her throat, meeting Nairne’s gaze without flinching. “As a matter of fact, I’ve parted ways with Darr due to a disagreement over his methods. Everything he’s taught me is in the past.”

No need to point out that their ‘disagreement’ was solely because she didn’t believe his actions went far enough. In this instance, what the Order didn’t know, couldn’t hurt them. She only had their best interests at heart.

Nairne straightened. With an abrupt flick of her hand, she gestured to Mala. “Resume your interrogation, Agent.”

“Er…” All Mala’s poise had deserted her. She glanced at her sheet of paper, which Caolinn was fairly certain was blank. “Perhaps you could give us an account of your activities under Darr’s… tutelage.”

Caolinn gave a winning smile. “Nothing more onerous than protecting Rata Sum from the Inquest, and saving Tyria from a second Searing. Would you like more details?”

Mala stared at her dubiously, whilst in the corner, Nairne snorted. “Sign her up, Agent,” the Lightbringer said, already stepping back into the shadows. “She can prove her loyalty to the Order the hard way. Just know this, little one: I’ll be keeping my eye on you.”

With that, she was gone, which Caolinn had to admit was a little unsettling; if there was a door in that corner, she couldn’t see it. Still, she turned her smile back to Mala.

The Agent shook her head. “If Nairne really is going to keep tabs on you… Well, rather you than me, that’s all I can say.”

“You’d advise me to keep my distance from her?” Caolinn asked, even as she carefully tucked the Lightbringer’s name away in her memory. Nairne, she had a feeling, might be key to this entire operation.

Mala grimaced. “That’s an understatement and a half. I don’t think she’d ever do anything to harm a recruit, but… She sometimes takes things a bit too far, that’s all.”

Caolinn nodded, as though she had any idea what Mala was talking about. Taking things a bit too far? That was practically what the Order was known for.

Mala snatched up the sheet of paper, suddenly all business again. “Here,” she said, pushing it across to Caolinn. “A hand-print is all we need.”

Caolinn stared at the paper, feeling as though a yawning chasm was opening beneath her feet. She’d never wanted to be an Order operative, but to achieve her objective, this was what it came to. She’d sell her life to an organisation she’d always thought of as the enemy, with the good of all Tyria at stake.

And if everything went wrong, she supposed she could always resign herself to a life of hiding, as Darr had.

She placed her hand on the paper, casually, as though she hadn’t the slightest doubt. There was a faint shiver of magic beneath her fingers, and then an impression formed, as though she’d pressed her hand into wet clay. Gingerly, she drew back.

Mala yanked the paper away, studied it, then smiled. “That’s all there is to it. You’re officially registered as a recruit in the Order of Whispers.” She got to her feet, chair scraping backwards on the floor. “Can I buy you a drink? We’re not all like Nairne, honest.”

Caolinn stood, still feeling the tingle of magic running through her fingers. She returned Mala’s smile, agreeing to the Agent’s offer as though it was the most natural thing in the world. The last thing she wanted was to make friends with these people, but she couldn’t let them know that. They had to believe she was a true and loyal member of the Order of Whispers, dedicated to their cause and the protection of Tyria.

That last part was true, at least, and it was the only reason she was here. Torwen’s information had been clear: the Inquest had infiltrated the Order of Whispers, and she was here to root them out.