Chapter 29.1: Rata Sum

One hand around the rope that bound Wepp and the other still clenched across her stomach, Penny followed Minkus down the ramps of Rata Sum and into the lower levels.

It had been twenty minutes since they’d stepped out of the asura gate, and still Penny’s stomach hadn’t fully recovered from being sucked into a magical doorway, hurled through the mists, and spit back out halfway across the continent. Twice. Her one gate trip several days earlier had been bad enough, but two in quick succession? That was gastrointestinal suicide. They’d gone from Divinity’s Reach to Lion’s Arch and immediately on again to Rata Sum, where she’d emerged from the gate certain they were all going to get a first-person experience of her digestive tract.

Now she, Minkus, and Wepp were two levels down, navigating the ever-thickening flow of asura foot traffic. Little figures streamed around each other, sometime in small groups of three or four, but mostly as individuals: a sea of little, hip-height figures in geometric tunics and hats that seemed to flop as much as their wearers did. This had to be how the few norn who settled in Divinity’s Reach felt every day: like the only adults in a swarm of children. Even Minkus stood notably taller than the crowd, and though she’d seen him beside other asura before, the sight gave her a new appreciation for his moniker. He really was large. The only things larger were the golems scattered throughout the swirl of little people.

Taller than either Minkus or Penny, several hulking, stone constructs strode past her, each on the heels of a diminutive master. A couple of times, they were passed by a smaller one: a two-foot-tall, pill-shaped thing floating through the air with hinged arms held in toward the chassis. Those weren’t as bad as the large ones, which stood a foot taller than Penny and almost as wide across. Whenever one of those monsters stomped past, Penny tensed. There was just something wrong with a machine that could think.

Still bouncing along beside her like a child awaking on Wintersday, Minkus beamed the whole way. Nothing today had seemed to have any impact on that: not the early-morning walk to and from the Durmand Hall; not the stomach-wrenching trip through the gate; not the thick jungle air; and not even Wepp, bound and following them through the city. Penny knew that last part did trouble MInkus at some currently unspoken level, but since they’d left that morning, he’d been too busy speaking about her to recognize it.

“I still— oh my ears,” Minkus began, already repeating himself from just minutes before. “You did such a good job on the transcription. You— you don’t even read glyphs, and they were all so clear!”

Penny buried her face in her hands, unintentionally tugging Wepp forward on the other end of the rope.

“When we show this text to someone who can use it,” Minkus went on excitedly. “I’m sure they’ll be very impressed.”

“Biggie, I told you. I was bored. That was it. I don’t need some weird little person telling me how brilliant my copy-work is, and I’m not getting any further into your little crusade, OK? I’m helping you move this guy, and that’s it.” She pulled Wepp aside as they passed a small group with their noses two inches deep in the various things they read.

Minkus’ shoulders fell a little, but his smile remained. “Yes. Right. Your plan to start over in— Lion’s Arch.” He paused on that point, seeming to give it deep thought. “I don’t blame you. It is a very unique city, and— and a good opportunity.”

Penny rolled her eyes and walked on. In truth, she had no interest in that pirate city, and she had even less interest in starting her life over. Not again. However, as long as Minkus believed that was her intent—that anything was her intent, really—the story was serving its purpose. She didn't have to believe it herself.

“Well, I’m still thankful,” Minkus said. “You didn’t have to help at all, Penny, but here you are. My friend.”

“Yeah, here I am,” Penny muttered.

Tugging Wepp along, she continued following Minkus, off the ramp and across the edge of a broad square. There appeared to be a crowd gathering a ways off to their right, nearly in the middle of the plaza, at the foot of some other cubic, glowing building in the middle of the space. It must have been some kind of thing the asura did. Gods knew a morning rally wouldn’t have been the strangest thing about these people.

Looking ahead again, they were approaching a large, stone establishment built into the very structure of the city and nearly taking up the width of the entire plaza. Glowing, parallel patterns lined the columns that made up its front, and through the windows, Penny could see as many well manicured jungle plants decorating the walls. The peacemaker headquarters, Minkus had called it; they were the asura equivalent of the seraphs. Penny’s stomach tensed. She just wanted to get in, get this done, and get out.

Nearing the doorway, though, Penny flinched, suddenly noticing the golem on guard beside it. Then the next, and then the next, and the knot her stomach clenched tight. There were at least half a dozen of the things, bigger than any she’d seen yet and still as the stone they were made of. Perfectly smoothed, with parallel grooves running down the lengths of their oblong bodies and angular arms, they watched the plaza with an eyeless gaze, as though they could actually see out of the bright gems at the center of their torsos.

Penny shivered, and by instinct, her free hand hovered to the holster at her hip. “Gods, I feel like those things are watching me,” she hissed. “How do your people stand it?”

Minkus just grinned, continuing onto the staircase leading into the headquarters. “They are watching you, Penny. And they’re watching me. Don’t worry, though. Golems are an everyday thing. To asura, they’re like— like dolyaks.”

“Yeah, sure. If dolyaks had brains and rifles.” She followed his lead, keeping a sidelong eye on the golem nearest her until it was out of view.

Inside, the three of them had been quickly seated at a granite table in the corner of the main chamber: the large, open space at the center of the headquarters that looked as much like a garden as a law-enforcement facility. The jungle plants growing from long planters in the walls juxtaposed the racks of staged energy weapons in a way that proved a bit disorienting. Penny couldn’t stop her eyes from wandering around the room, even as they were interviewed by one of the peacemakers on duty, someone calling himself Officer Hazz.

It took a while to tell their story, particularly as the peacemaker continued insisting that Minkus tell the lion’s share of it. So, Penny sat there, squatting atop a chair she would have outgrown at the age of ten and correcting what she had to as the story went along. Other than that, she just waited for it all to end.

“And that’s how we got here,” Minkus said, ending his tale. He looked to Penny for approval, and she nodded.

“So let me ensure I have this straight,” Officer Hazz said, pinching the bridge of his bulbous nose. “The two of you,” he pointed at Minkus and Penny, “took this male hostage after his associate deceived the human with a false bribe. Then, while in your custody—and while being alternately frightened unconscious and conscious again—he disclosed information about a Vigil camp in Brisbanthat may be in danger of being attacked by 200-year-old, human-made construct, which you found the countermeasure for in a tome written just as long ago by a discredited and exiled golemancer.” He leaned across the table, one eyebrow raised. “Is that the story you’re committing to?”

“Yes,” Minkus replied. “Yes, that’s it.”

Penny frowned. “Yeah, well, when you say it like that, I can see how—”

“How it sounds like the mad rantings of a three-skritt colony?”

She shrugged. “Sure. Something like that.”

“Can you help us?” Minkus asked, leaning forward. “I mean, can you— can you help our friends? Can you help the Vigil?” He extended his stack of hand-written notes across the desk, wordlessly imploring the peacemaker to take the information they had on the constructs.

Hazz squinted skeptically at the fat pile of papers, then conceded, reaching to take it. As he shuffled through the numbered pages, assessing bits of each one, Minkus looked hopefully at Penny. She met his eyes, and that hopeful grin turned quickly to pleased gratitude aimed once more at her. Penny looked back to the scanning officer, just hoping Minkus would stop.

“First,” the inspector said, waving the papers in hand, “I can see why the council incinerated Zinn’s materials. I can’t make heads or tails of this nonsense.” He set it down on his stone desk.

“Second, though I am sorry if indeed your friends are in legitimate danger, the peacemakers have no jurisdiction in Brisban; no one in Tyria does, which is why the more questionable krewes choose to operate there. At best, we’re occasionally able to safeguard civilian passage through the area, but even that’s unusual.”

Minkus’ eyes turned sad, almost confused.

“Third,” Peacemaker Hazz went on, “we have no jurisdiction over a dispute occurring in Kryta, which your dispute is. That’s an issue for their local law enforcement.” He sighed and took a sip of whatever sweet-smelling beverage sat on his desk.

“And finally, whatever you may think—Penny, is it?—this fellow, Wepp, is probably guilty of blackmail and arguably deceit, but neither of those is technically a crime, not in Rata Sum—not anywhere, to my knowledge. We have no jurisdiction and no reportable offense. What are crimes, however, are kidnapping and unlawful incarceration.” Exasperated, he rubbed his face. “If anyone is guilty of anything at the moment, it’s the two of you, so for Alchemy’s sake, let this fellow loose. Now.”

Running a hand through her messy hair, Penny leaned back as best as she could on her cramped chair. This was still better than being arrested on sight by the seraphs—something they’d only narrowly escaped on their way out of the Reach. The way this sounded, though, they had to do what the little peacemaker said, and fast, if they didn’t want to wind up in an asura jail instead.

Minkus, however, seemed unable to process what was happening. “But— but we— he— our friends—” He stuttered broken bits of a response that ultimately amounted to nothing.

“My ears,” the officer sighed. He brushed a hand through his wiry hair and his expression softened as much as his squished face would allow. “Look, I don’t doubt that all you've described is possible, statically probable even. If it were my choice, there would be regulations against such forms of coercion, and places like the Wildlands would be policed and protected.” He sighed again, shaking his head. “But those are not things under peacemaker control and nowhere near my control at all. The Arcane Council has made those determinations. Now, please,” he rolled his eyes, “release this citizen before I have no recourse but to detain the two of you. I’d rather not have to create records for an illogical crime today.”

“Yeah, sure,” Penny interjected before Minkus could say anything more. “Whatever you say.” This was what she’d expected, of course, but Penny still gritted her teeth as she summoned a knife from her smartpack, leaned over, and sawed through the twine that bound Wepp’s hands. The thin rope fell away, and Wepp extended his arms. He stood, stretched, and moved all his limbs about freely. “There. You happy, Wipp?”

He glowered at her. “Now you’re just mistaking my name out of spite.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I am.”

The officer slid back his chair and stood up, gesturing Minkus and Penny away. “Now if you two would step outside, I would like to speak alone with—”

Before he could get the name out, though, another asura broke into the room and slid to a stop at the edge of the table. “Hazz,” he panted, “our presence is needed immediately at the stacks, all of us.”

“What? No. I need to finish with these—”

A little more forcefully, the newcomer tried again. “Hazz, all nonessential uniformed peacemakers not on active patrol have been called across the plaza by the lead inspector. Post-haste.” He glanced at Penny, Minkus, and Wepp and then leaned closer to Hazz, emphatically whispering something in his ear.

Officer Hazz reeled back. “A triple expunging? At the stacks? And at the initiation of the workday? Alchemy.” His face went flush, and Hazz nearly left without saying another word, until he caught himself, turned back, and pointed at Minkus and Penny. “You two, no more kidnappings, for any reason. And you,” he looked at Wepp with a hint of menace, “there are no laws against your kind of krewe, but don’t expect it to stay that way forever. Now all of you, out!” He nodded, more to himself than to them, and the two peacemakers made for the stairs.