Chapter 19.1: Final Preparation

It had been nearly two days since the group had had their one official meeting with Magister Makkay in the lower levels of the Durmand Priory, and if Skixx had thought he’d reached the end of his rope with these people before they arrived, he was now hanging by a pinky finger. Surprisingly the worst of the group was no longer the moron and his insufferable sister. Now the title belonged to the fourth asura, this Priory Scholar. As much as Jinkke may have annoyed him, she at least spoke only when it was logical to do so. Yissa, on the other hand, spoke at all times, prattling on about various theories and discoveries of historical, magical nonsense. Had Skixx even had a desire to do so, it was impossible to pay attention to one of her pitchy lectures for more than the first few seconds. He gritted his teeth just thinking about her.

“There he goes,” the pigeon keeper said, turning back to Skixx and interrupting his thought. Still gritting his teeth, Skixx shook the thoughts away. He gave the large, robed charr a silver and a dirty look. Only the latter was returned; the former went promptly into her pocket.

Stuffing his hands into his armpits to stave off the biting cold of the morning, Skixx watched the bird lift away from the outer deck of the Priory. It quickly climbed, bobbing higher into the air until it rose above the mountainous horizon across the valley and made its long, wheeling arc back toward the Priory and out of sight overhead. He noticed the rising sun glinting off the highest caps of snow on those silhouetted eastern peaks, but only for a moment before he was once again entrenched in the thought of Wepp, the thought of his part in the plan and the importance of his coming through on it.

Skixx could simply lie his way through the next steps, certainly, but he feared the woman would be able to see through a simple deception. He had to give her credit; she had a decent sense about her, a fair understanding of people and their motives. For a human at least. The irony of that didn’t escape him either, that the most wary of them would also be the most easily manipulated, but she was. The woman walked as though she were the strongest of them all: self-made, independent, and responsible to no one. The sylvari was loyal to his cause, and the asura were loyal to each other, but the human’s only loyalty was to herself. That was always exploitable, and he was positive he had the way to do it.

He’d communicated as much to Wepp in previous letters, but this one stressed not only the urgency of fulfilling his portion of the plan, but also their greater plan as it pertained to Kikka. Wepp was still skittish about so much of the scheme they’d constructed against her that Skixx knew he needed all the information possible to keep his partner motivated. Wepp would need to know the real nature of the shards, what that said about Kikka’s true purposes, and how the two of them could use that knowledge to their optimal advantage. In essence, Skixx had had to unfurl all the known variables for his tentative partner, if he hoped to keep Wepp fully invested in the efforts.

Skixx shook his head, glaring for a moment at the pigeon keeper, from under his brow.

“You sure do send a lot of pigeons, Moptop,” Penny observed wryly, surprising the asura as she stepped up behind him.

The asura spun around. He’d heard the footsteps approaching behind him—he always did—but he hadn’t anticipated who it would be. A knowing grin crept across his face, bearing a few shark-like teeth.

Penny grimaced, leaning away slightly. “Gods, Moptop. What is that smile about? You look like you stole candy from a kid and liked it.”

Catching himself, he let the grin fade softly. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Not candy. My partner and I are working on a new business endeavor— a purchase of sorts. He isn’t the most independent thinker, so I like to keep in contact and encourage him along.”

“Right. OK.” The woman shrugged. “Well, Vent’s itching to get going, so if you’re set—“ A breeze swept by, and she shivered, drawing her coat tighter around her neck. “Gods alive. I can’t wait to be out of this frozen wasteland.”

A quick, squeaky voice piped up behind her. “Summer, winter, spring, autumn— It’s all the same in the Shiverpeaks.” Turning, the human stepped aside to reveal Yissa, the Durmand scholar they were now expected to travel with. “Personally, I like the dry cold,” she went on. “Keeps the air thin and crisp for enhanced visibility across the valley. The inspiration of such a view is unimaginable; if it doesn’t make you want to unearth the mysteries of the world, then I can’t imagine what would. And the cold air does nothing if not drive a person back indoors to continue the exploration of those mysteries and our records of them. Magical, simply magical—in the non-literal sense of course. But then, often in the literal sense as well.” She giggled, slapping her knee. “Oh, it’s too good.”

Penny only blinked at her. Skixx rolled his eyes.

“What?” She asked, suddenly frowning. “Where are your senses of humor?” Neither said anything, eying her curiously.

Yissa waved it away. “In any case, what are you two dawdling for? The sergeant is nearly ready to depart, and I for one can’t wait to get this excursion under way. It’s time we were off and about this mystery, and you two are just standing out here gawking at me like a pair of—“

“I just came out here to collect Moptop. I left you two minutes ago,” Penny interrupted, putting a hand to her hip. “We’ve spent more time listening to you than—“

“Now, now. There’s no need for affront. We’re all on the same team and making headway toward the same destination—a thrilling destination. Constructs! Can you believe it?” Yissa caught herself mid-sentence, seemingly on the verge of dancing. “The important thing is that we start making that headway. The sergeant is excited to depart, as am l, so let’s not waste time pointing fingers. This way, fellow adventurers!” She turned on a heel, her two braids bouncing as she sprung step to step back into the main hall of the Priory.

Penny sighed, burying her face in her hands before returning her attention to Skixx. “Where do we find these people?”

Skixx only shook his head, making no effort to wipe away the disdain that dressed his face. “Everywhere, it would seem.”

Penny shrugged, turning to follow Yissa, already twenty yards ahead of them. “Guess we might as well get going.” Skixx nodded and the two made quick strides toward the entrance of the Priory.

Back inside the Priory and one floor below the others, the siblings were finishing the end of their packing. Minkus had just received the last of their travel rations from one of the order’s cooks. Gently, he wrapped two slabs of salted dolyak in several layers of cheesecloth, ripping only a small nibble off the corner of one. He popped it into his mouth and grinned as he sucked the salty, almost wooded flavor out of the meat, moving it into an outer pouch of his overstuffed pack.

Ever since his acquisitions at Snowblind Peaks, he’d been carrying more clothing than he’d ever intended to when they’d first set out from Divinity’s Reach. It had seemed excessive to him, but both Penny and Jinkke had seemed particular insistent that he’d need more clothing than he thought, even now. Actually, thus far they’d been right. They generally were. Jinkke generally was.

At the moment, though, there was something about which she wasn’t right. At least he thought she wasn’t; something inside told him she wasn’t, but he was having a hard time expressing it clearly enough to convince her. He was having a hard time expressing it clearly enough to convince himself. He looked up from his pack again. “Jinkke—” he started, now barely tasting the meat still in his mouth.

She was back at her bunk, laying the last items into the top of her own pack, finishing with her two waypoint activators. She shook her head at the sight of them, pulling the mouth of the bag shut. He knew she’d meant one of them for him.

“Jinkke,” he tried again. “I— I signed a contract. I promised to help Ventyr. I promised to help them all. I promised Penny. And— and I already broke that promise.”

“Yes, Big Brother,” she replied, neither looking up from her work nor turning to look at him. “I understand, and I’ve always adored your loyalty, but I simply can’t condone this particular promise. I can’t and won’t support you risking your wellbeing for this silly, military errand. These others can handle it. They’re more than capable.”

Minkus scratched his head, tapping the toes of his boots against the cold, stone slabs of the floor for a moment. He stared either at his feet or the floor; his focus kept shifting until even he didn’t really know which. The words swam in his head before finally congealing. “It’s not the errand, Jinkke. I— I mean, it is the errand— the mission. I promised to complete the mission, but it’s more than that. Jinkke, it’s the people. I promised them. I promised Ventyr and the warmaster and— and Penny. She’s my friend. They’re my friends, and I don’t want to let them down.”

“Your friend?” Jinkke asked, turning to him at last. Her eyes and words were as soft as usual with him, but she was clearly annoyed. Minkus hated when she was annoyed. “You’re my brother, Minkus, my sweet, selfless, faithful brother. You befriend everyone and believe the best of others, even those who don’t deserve it. You always have, and how many times has it come back around to sting you? Minkus the Large? I hear you still use that insulting moniker.”

He tried to put words together as she reached for his hand. “I—“ Any words that had perhaps come together fell away as her little, chocolate palms wrapped gently around his hand, two of her hands to his one.

“I say this only to protect you, Big Brother. All I’ve ever wanted was to protect you.” She stared up boldly, directively into his eyes, and he felt like a progeny again. “It’s what Appa and Amma instructed me to do,” she said. “Your friend doesn’t have the first notion who you are or what you’re capable of, no concern for what dangers your limitation may pose to you in this place.” Jinkke gestured around them as though she could see the whole of Tyriae and every threat in it.

He sighed, then suddenly perked. A thought had finally come. “But Jinkke, Penny is my friend. She believes in me like you do. We built her smartpa—”

“Yes, I know,” she said, lifting a hand to her forehead. “The smartpack. That strange application of golem intelligence technology. You told me.” Minkus smiled, but only for a second. Jinkke wasn’t smiling. “The fact that a human used you for your knowledge of golemantic research—which I am pleased to see you remembered—is hardly solid evidence of her appreciation or care for you. When I talked with her—“ Jinkke paused, as if it was the first time she too was hearing her own words.

“You talked with her?” he asked. “About me?” He could feel the color filling his cheeks.

“I did, Minkus,” she admitted, unapologetically. “I had to know if she understood, which of course she didn’t. I blame myself, Big Brother. Even the implication that a human could possibly recognize your disability and respond accordingly is absurd; why I thought it remotely possible is beyond me, but it seemed only proper, only prudent, for your sake, that I explain it to her in terms she could understand. Unfortunately, I assumed too much of her. And if she didn’t grasp it, the odds of the sylvari understanding are beyond the very Alchemy.”

The warmth in Minkus’ cheeks didn’t abate. He wished it would as his gaze returned to the floor. For the first time since he’d met Penny, Minkus realized how much he’d enjoyed being her equal, how for the first time since he was a very young progeny he’d felt himself defined by something other than what he wasn’t, something other than what every other asura saw. For the first time in years, he was embarrassed. Standing there with his sister, he was embarrassed.

“But I— but you—” His whole body seemed to fold as he leaned back into the bed, into the pack sitting atop it. His memory spluttered with images of every time Jinkke had been his encouragement, his tutor, his support, his guide: the number of times she’d pressed him to things he never thought himself capable of, believing in him when no one else had. He frowned, scratching his ear. This didn’t feel like that.

“Don’t look so disillusioned, Big Brother.” Jinkke said, stepping up to him once more. She leaned into his lowered field of view and raised his chin. “It’s for your benefit. Keep out of trouble until we can leave these people behind and still meet your contract, and then we’ll say our farewells and be on our way back to Rata Sum. they will all be fine. I promise.”

His chin was up, but his eyes were still set on the stone floor. “I promised.”

“I know you did, and I love you for it. If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a factor of seven times, you’re the one who taught me loyalty.” She smiled up at him, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek before turning to return to her pack and tighten the straps that held the mouth shut. Slipping first into the coat she’d thrown beside the bag, she buttoned it up, then pulled the pack down off the human-sized bed and hefted it onto her back.

“Now,” she said, turning back to Minkus, still leaning against his pack. He looked up at her. “Put that on and we’ll join your friends upstairs. Doubtless the sergeant is anxious to leave, as well as that overly excitable scholar.” She leaned against his shoulder, gently kissing it as she passed, only to stop a step later, looking back over her shoulder. “And Big Brother, steer clear of that one. I don’t like the way she ogles you.”

He squinted hard, sliding his arms into the straps of his bag and following her out the door. “The way she ogles me?”

“Just trust me, Big Brother.”