Chapter 20.2: Vile Manipulations

The road they walked followed the edge of the bluffs overlooking the rest of the bay. Unlike the previous several days, which had seemed to present one near-death misstep after the next, this leg of the journey was uneventful. For hours there was little more to speak of than palms swaying in a light sea breeze. The scent of salt air mingled with that of the season’s newly grown grasses as speckled iguanas stretched out across the rocks to bathe in the sun or another flock of gulls took flight to one of the many small islands in the bay. The group chatted occasionally, and just as often Minkus let out a long, satisfied sigh that seemed to embody everyone’s experience of the day.

If he was honest with himself, even Skixx enjoyed something of it all, but it didn’t elicit nearly the response from him that it did from the others. The fools were so easily amused. No, he was fixated on his future, both near and far. Once he was able to walk away from these imbeciles with his prize, he mused to himself, he’d have what he needed to more fully establish himself within the Inquest, embedded in one of the most forward-thinking and independently operating krewes of the organization; that was what mattered. Kikka had made a series of career-ending mistakes, and he knew it. With that knowledge, and the knowledge to help her on what appeared to be her agendas, Skixx was more than ready to finally leave the debasement of Kryta’s capitol behind. And this human he’d been forced to befriend? She would soon know who was the real genius here. He couldn’t wait to see the look on her smug face.

In the meantime, though, there was still the matter of his latest card in this little game. It was time to play it.

“Say, Arkayd,” he began, looking up at Penny as she slowed a bit to match his pace. The others were pulling slightly ahead now, but he still kept his voice low. “These shards of stone the sergeant has, Scholar Yissa says they’re impossibly rare, correct?”

The human nodded. “Yeah. Something old and evil and magical or some crap.”

“From an ancient and lost race,” Skixx added. Penny nodded again, looking both uncertain and disinterested in where this spontaneous conversation was headed. “Well, a thought occurred to me: it seems such a possession would be prized by many powerful people in the world, many powerful and wealthy people.”

Penny chortled. “Right, Moptop. I’m sure the richest of the rich are after this stuff. Even if for some ridiculous reason they are, I can guarantee Vent isn’t thinking anything like that.”

“Well, no, of course not,” Skixx agreed, keeping his tone as pleasant and unwitting as possible. “I would be dumbfounded if the noble sergeant’s motives were the least bit angled toward material gains.” He paused, pretending to select his words. “What I meant more—purely out of curiosity, of course—is to wonder exactly what value such a rare and precious object might carry within wealthier circles: those interested in the world’s history.”

Penny glared down at him, and for a second Skixx didn’t actually know which way his gambit would fall.

She squinted, shaking her head at him. “Hell if I know, Moptop. Do I look like I spend much time in those ‘wealthier circles’?”

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t,” he lied, “but I take your meaning. It’s not your area of expertise.” He paused again, letting the sound of rustling palm fronds fill the void. “Perhaps,” he said slowly, “the scholar would have some idea—“

“Gods,” Penny groaned. She cupped her hands to her mouth and raised her voice. “Hey, you, Professor Yissa. What are those magic rocks of ours worth?”

Skixx made an effort to conceal his grin. It was like the human was actively trying to make this easier for him.

The scholar’s ears perked at Penny’s question, and she turned, proceeding to speak while still walking backwards. She didn’t break pace at either, which Skixx found absurd but also frustratingly impressive.

“Worth?” she asked. “I don’t fully understand your inquiry. There is no clear means of assessing the significance of an artifact so rare and deeply tied to at least two and upwards of five different races. The historic importance alone, without speaking of the vast sum of lore we could validate or repudiate by a substantial testing on the magical essence and physical attributes of a single piece, is enough to put it in one of the Priory’s central collections. Perhaps it’s not powerful enough to justify placement in any of the secret repositories, but it does seem safe to assume it would end up in—”

“No,” Penny interjected, waving away Yissa’s diatribe. “I’m talking about money. What would the little things be worth in coin?”

Skixx glanced at Ventyr. The sylvari had tried at first to keep his attention ahead, but now that Penny had come to her point, the sergeant fully turned, bending to put a cautionary hand on the scholar’s arm, but he was too late.

“Coin?” Yissa burst. Equal parts perturbed and curious, she stopped just in time to avoid Ventyr’s hand entirely.

Curiosity seemed to get the better of Yissa, and the expression of concern dissolved. “Coin, you ask? Why, I’ve never considered it. Given the unimaginable cultural, magical, and historic value of such a find, I’d never questioned what that same opportunity might be worth in currency to someone lacking the good fortune of finding it for themselves.” She stopped, suddenly horrified, and turned to look up at Ventyr, her eyes widening. “Why, Sergeant, you don’t expect to be remunerated for this discovery, do you? Because I don’t have the authority necessary to allot to you any of the Priory’s resources. I would have no means of—“

“No,” Ventyr broke in. “I have no desire—“

Yissa sighed relief. “Good, because I would be deeply remiss to lose this opportunity—“

Ventyr was finally able to get a hand on her arm and tried turning her toward himself. “I would like it if we could put this subject—“

“Oh yes, the subject of monetary value. I almost forgot.” Yissa pulled away from him to look once again at Penny. “It would take a great deal of investigation to establish a true estimate, but if I had to guess, off the top of my head, I’d say you’d be selling to someone in the echelon of your Minister Caudecus at least, and thus you could anticipate some twenty to forty percent of his total wealth.” She smiled, shrugged, and turned to continue on forward, still talking. “They really are a unique and beautiful artifact. Now if we could discover more of the jade, the question would be whether it would increase or diminish the value of this particular sample—” Her words trailed off in a mumble, seemingly intended for only herself.

Skixx looked up to see Penny’s eyes wide. For once he couldn’t blame her for her stupidity. That really was a number beyond anything Skixx had anticipated hearing. Profit wasn’t his current objective, but perhaps he could alter exactly how many shards made it all the way back to Kikka.

At this point, everyone was part of the conversation. In his jaunty way, Minkus dropped back beside the human and looked up curiously. “I don’t know that minister, Penny. Is that a lot of money?”

“Yeah, Minkus, it’s a lot,” she stammered, blinking absently. She brushed some black hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. “I mean, I think so anyway. The guy owns a town or something and damn near runs Divinity’s Reach.”

Minkus marveled. “Wow, that would be a lot.”

Skixx looked ahead again, finding the sylvari walking forward with a stiff intention, his jaw clenched and his hands wrapped white-knuckled around his staff. Between the woman and the scholar, everyone was playing their roles perfectly. Skixx felt at his pocket, gently gliding a finger over the two elixir vials: one for the buffoon, and the other for the soldier.

A hand still on those hidden sedatives, Skixx reviewed his scheme, reveling in its simple brilliance several times more. The assignment that had once seemed so close to failing was now running more smoothly with each passing moment. It was evidence of how much he truly deserved an elevated role in the Inquest hierarchy, something others would be forced to acknowledge in due time as well.

Lost in dreams of his future, Skixx continued on at the rear of the small traveling party. Before he knew it, another hour had passed.

With the sun now approaching the western horizon, Skixx was brought back to his present circumstance by the sound of the sylvari’s voice calling orders, leading the group off the road. They scurried carefully down a short series of inclines and out onto a bluff no more than ten yards above the tide flats that ran off into the bay’s gentle surf. A marsh drake wandered by on the sands below.

“They won’t be any bother to us up here,” Ventyr reassured them, though no one had voiced concern. “We’ll make camp here. Penny, Yissa, if you’ll start setting up sleeping mats, Skixx and I can find wood. Minkus, you and Jinkke begin food preparation.”

“Actually,” Skixx broke in meekly, “I was hoping I could take this last opportunity to learn some cooking techniques from Minkus before we part ways tomorrow.” He smiled as warmly as he could at the idiot. “I realize you mostly just heat the cured foods we’ve carried, but whatever your means of doing that has only ever added desirable flavor and textures in unexpected ways. I’d love to learn what I can from you.”

Minkus looked at him curiously. If Skixx didn’t know any better, he’d have been tempted to call it suspicion, but that was nothing he had to worry about with this one.

“Alright,” Minkus agreed, looking to Ventyr. “It’s fine with me.”

The sylvari shrugged. “Very well,” he said, “Jinkke, you’re with me.” She nodded her assent, and the two started off toward a nearby patch of palms.

Everyone else got to work at their assigned tasks as well, Penny and Yissa bending to untie their own mats first. The scholar almost instantly began a treatise on the merits of various bedding materials in a warming and mildly humid climate. Penny very clearly ignored her.

“What do you think would go better with the salted pork?” Minkus asked, drawing Skixx’s attention back to the task at hand. The large asura shuffled through his bag. “We have these turnips, half of a pumpernickel loaf, or— what’s this?” He raised his head, looking first at Skixx and then beyond, scanning the area with a wide smile on his face and a small burlap sack in his hand. Skixx followed his gaze until the other’s eyes landed on his sister, walking alongside the sergeant. “Jinkke,” Minkus called out, extending the sack toward her. She turned. “Did you put these apples in here?”

“Yes I did,” she called back, sharing his dopey grin. “They’re your favorite, especially with pork.”

“But how? Spring is the wrong—“

“Big brother,” she interrupted, “are you going to ask questions or make something with them?” With another smirk, the female turned and rejoined the sylvari.

Looking back to Minkus, Skixx put down his own bag and stepped toward the ingredients. With a politeness so shallowly feigned as to be insulting to anyone of greater intellect, he took the bread in hand. “Most assuredly the loaf is our best option,” he said, nodding. “Pumpernickel is my very favorite.”

The oaf looked at him, perplexed. Or was Minkus saddened? It was hard to tell in the waning sunlight. No, Skixx decided, it was a mix of both: perplexed and saddened. If he hadn’t been grinning enough to sell the lie before, Skixx certainly was now that he’d seen Minkus’ disappointed face.

“But I—“ Minkus began. “We have these— my sister—“ He stopped. Thoughts seemed to pass before him, choices being made inside that thick skull of his. They happened painfully slowly, but that almost made it more enjoyable for Skixx.

“Alright,” Minkus said at last, in a tone equal parts hospitality and surrender. “Pumpernickel it is. You haven’t chosen a meal yet, so that— that’s great.” He offered a smile in return, slipping the apples back into his pack at the same time he extended a hand to retrieve the loaf from Skixx. “We can crisp it in the fire and have toast with our pork— I mean, if that sounds good to you, of course.”

“Yes, of course. Whatever the master chef thinks best.” Skixx flourished a bow, but Minkus only smiled at him, clearly making an effort to mask his uncertainty at the overly polite gesture. “Now,” Skixx went on, flashing a hand into his pocket to feel at those vials again, “how do we turn these disparate ingredients into one of your mouth-watering meals?”

The fool scowled for a moment before shrugging and digging back in his bag for the pan he carried with him.

As he began into his process, Minkus’ attention shifted to the meal. He gave Skixx the task of scraping the last remnants of some previous night’s meal from the pan and pre-heating it once Ventyr and Jinkke had built the fire. In the meantime, that meant he was an onlooker to the process, a student beneath his culinary tutor; in essence he was a captive audience. Before Skixx could stop him, Minkus was half an hour into his work, going on about the interplay between a savory pork and the almost-too-sweet juices of an apple simmered and drizzled overtop it, which types of bread were best for absorbing and balancing the juices of various meats, and a dozen other culinary assertions that Skixx had no interest in hearing. Of course, he reminded Skixx, tonight’s meal would not have apples, as this one was Skixx’s preference, not his or anyone else’s. He’d smiled broadly at that, despite how long he’d gone on about pork and apples. With each passing word, Skixx further regretted his decision to exert his will over this buffoon regarding the meal.

Finally, though, he’d suffered long enough. Having toasted the bread and tactlessly dropped the first chunk onto one of the party’s tin dishes, he held the plate out to Minkus, who carefully added a couple of thin slices of hot pork.

He took that first plate to Penny. If he’d forgotten his purpose in the course of making that dinner, the sound of the woman’s smug, chuckling thanks brought it all back to him. He smiled deviously, returning to Minkus to get meals for the two asura females as well. He was so close.

Once he’d served the females, Skixx returned again, reaching subtly into his pocket and uncorking one of the vials as he slid it out between his first and middle fingers. With that same hand, he grabbed and dropped a chunk of bread onto an empty plate, letting the vial empty on and around it just before extending the dish to Minkus for the meat. As he’d expected, the buffoon paid no attention, sliding those slices of pork directly atop the thin pool of elixir that was now soaking into every part of the overly salty meal. The salt, Skixx knew, would mask the majority of the elixir’s subtle flavor. He took the plate and handed it to the sylvari.

Pulling the second vial from his pocket in the same manner and repeating the process, Skixx insisted to Minkus that the cook should not eat last. It took determination, but eventually he acquiesced, taking the plate and a seat and allowing Skixx to prepare a plate for himself. The thief, conman, and self-appointed genius sat on a nearby stone with plate in hand, watching the cogs of his plan begin to turn.

Quietly Skixx began to note everything about his targets, from talkativeness to breathing rates. He’d gotten his sleep elixirs into the meals of the two biggest threats to his plan: the soldier and the moron. As the only ones with any magical ability, they could pose particular danger should anything go awry at the crux of the scheme. He knew nothing would go awry, but at the same time, caution where he’d already failed was a wise decision. The thought made Skixx grit his teeth, but he stuffed another bit of dry meat into his mouth to mask it.

With the fire in bloom at the center of the camp between them all, and the night sky twinkling silently above, the party ate, chatting as they liked, first about those accursed apples again, and then other topics. Their peaceful conversation continued to the hypnotic sound of the tide, crashing in and tugging back out in the distance beyond them.

Before long, the light chatter descended into near silence, beginning with Ventyr and Minkus, who faded quickly once the elixirs took hold. The stole away the liveliness of the others as they slumped off into their sleeping mats. As if by design, the others fell to whispers, and within minutes the two female asura were laying down to rest also, with Skixx imitating them on his own mat.

That left Penny, the night’s first watch. With a shrug that Skixx watched through half-closed eyes, she stood, stuffing hands in her pockets and striding off toward the edge of the bluff, toward the sea.