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This Used to be About Dungeons, ch 77, The Day Of
🕑 Added 2022-02-09 16:33:15 +0000 UTC~~~~
Alfric woke up in the middle of the night, as usual. There were no relevant guild messages, and he didn’t know what to make of that.
Time priority was a fundamental concept for chrononauts, but it was largely opaque from the inside, and inconsequential unless two or more chrononauts were interacting with each other. If Alfric and Lola both attempted to reset the day, then Lola would remember and Alfric would not, regardless of when in the day it happened. There were, from Lola’s perspective, days in which Alfric had wanted to reset and had attempted to reset which she could still see the inside of. If he attempted to reset at third bell and she attempted to reset at fourth bell, she would remember whatever happened after he’d tried to reset.
The obvious weapon to use against a chrononaut was a higher priority chrononaut. Alfric could, in theory, get in contact with a chrononaut who had higher priority and unused days, which would allow him to send information back to himself about whatever Lola had done on a day that she had intended to undo. It was, in practical terms, the only way to circumvent her ability to do whatever she wanted on her undone days — by having them be someone else’s undone days instead.
But if Alfric had done that on this day, then he should have gotten a message from the guild, and based on what Hannah had reported the night before, Lola was on her way. There were quite a few options for what that meant, and they ranged from very bad to moderately good, but it was difficult to say, and the lack of a guild message didn’t narrow it down all that much. There was a method of thinking about chrononautics which sequenced days in ‘order’, though order couldn’t always be untangled for two chrononauts who hadn’t interacted with each other, let alone hundreds. While there were many assurances that cause always followed effect and the resetting of time was a unidirectional process, there was little clarity from the inside. Nevertheless, combing through the guild messages, most of his family who were going to use their power had already done so, and it was close to the end of the ‘chrono timeline’, where Alfric and Lola took their days.
Alfric’s most likely scenario was that whatever happened on this day, it wasn’t going to be something that he was going to report to another chrono, though it might be because he wound up dead.
The whole thing was confusing, and Alfric somewhat hated it, especially when getting into the levels of play and counterplay that were involved. An adversarial relationship between chrononauts was a nightmare, and Alfric had a sinking feeling that Lola was better at the game than he was. He had no enthusiasm for it.
After checking the messages, Alfric had trouble getting back to sleep. If Lola was planning something, it was entirely possible that she was over in Liberfell at that very moment, awake at the witching hour just as he was, plotting and planning, or even putting events into motion with the benefit of foresight. Eventually he did sleep, but it was restless and uneasy.
It was unusually quiet during breakfast, but Mizuki did her best to fill the air.
“Kiromon cooking isn’t all that different from Central Inter cooking, not really,” she said. “I mean, maybe more of a focus on noodles, and obviously some different ingredients, and you guys don’t really eat rice all that much, but other than that, not so different.”
“You chop up your meat more than I’m used to,” said Alfric.
“I do?” asked Mizuki.
Alfric shrugged. His heart wasn’t in the conversation. “That might just be you though. In Dondrian, usually a person is served a large piece of meat and then cuts it up on their own, but you normally make all of the meat bite-sized.”
“Huh,” said Mizuki. “I’ll have to think about that. I don’t know if that’s a real thing that I do or not. I didn’t cut up your pork belly, did I?”
Alfric used his fork to spear a piece. It was nice and crisp, coated with dark sauce. “You did not,” said Alfric.
“Or that venison loin?” asked Mizuki.
“You did those meatballs,” said Hannah.
“They’re supposed to be like that,” said Mizuki. “It’s just how they’re made. Besides, smaller pieces mean more crust, and everyone knows that the crust is the best part. And hey, half the cooking I do would be considered Central Inter anyway, I never claimed that I was a Kiromon chef or anything.”
They were all a little bit on edge, including Verity once she made her way downstairs.
“Is she here yet?” asked Verity. She had woken late, as usual, but looked more disheveled than normal.
“Nothing yet,” said Alfric. “Have some toast and tea.”
“Do we still have some of that kizu marmalade?” asked Verity as she took her seat.
“All out,” said Mizuki. “There’s plum jam and cherry jelly. I was actually thinking that maybe I would put up something with frink fruit, since apparently they’re in season.”
“I know how to put things up,” said Isra. “I could help.”
“Hmm,” said Mizuki. “Okay, so long as we don’t have different ideas about what that entails. Have you ever made a marmalade?”
“I’m not sure what a marmalade is,” said Isra.
Mizuki launched into a rather long explanation of what a marmalade was, along with a digression on the differences between jams, jellies, conserves, and preserves, including some examples, all of which was wholly unnecessary. Alfric could feel his nerves fray just a bit. It felt like they should have been setting up for war. He didn’t have his armor on, and wasn’t planning to go into this encounter equipped, but the itch was there. They had talked about it the night before, and agreed that meeting Lola with violence wasn’t likely to do any good, as satisfying as it might have been. Killing her on sight was a short-term solution that could backfire spectacularly.
It was almost a relief when the knock came on the door.
It was Lola, and with her, as Marsh had told Hannah, the rest of Vertex. They looked alternately confused and uncomfortable.
“Now, I know you said that you only wanted to talk by letter,” said Lola. “But this is important, and it’s not something that I can do by letter.”
“Come around to the back,” said Alfric. “We can talk there.”
“Just so you know, we have no idea what she’s up to,” said Grig. “We were only told that we were all to go as a party, which we didn’t really want to do. But she said that yesterday, so … I don’t know.”
Alfric nodded. “In the back,” he said. “I’ll bring my party out. If your people are here, I have to assume that my people will also have a vested interest in whatever it is you have to say.”
Lola was smiling, and seemed pleased, which wasn’t a good sign.
It took some time to get everyone assembled, and Mizuki did her best to play host, which in Alfric’s view really wasn’t necessary. She offered everyone water, tea, or something to eat, all except for Lola. For a moment, Alfric was worried she’d offer Grig a tour of the house, but she refrained and eventually came to a rest beside Alfric.
“Oh, not her,” said Lola. “Her, I'd like somewhere else. We have history, even if it’s unknown to her.”
“Fine,” said Mizuki with a shrug. “I’m off then. Alfric, give me a call if you need me.” She walked away, off to the woods, as though she didn’t have a care in the world. This wasn’t particularly part of the plans they’d made the night before, but after being repeatedly told that they wouldn’t meet Lola with violence, she had said that she didn’t see any need to be a part of it, and that she didn’t want to sit by and be part of the plan to bait Lola out. <You let me know,> she added over party chat. <If violence is what you need, I’ll be there in a flash. For now, I’m waiting in the wings. I cannot stand that girl.>
“So, why have you gathered your party here?” asked Alfric.
“Well that’s just it,” said Lola. She began casting one of the universal spells. None of them were offensive, or at least not in the conventional sense. It took Alfric a moment to recognize it, and by the time he did, she had said it outright. “They’re not my party anymore.”
“Oh come on,” said Mardin. “You’re seriously going to try pulling this?”
“I am,” said Lola. “I’m out, out of the party, out of the dungeoneering game, hanging up my hat. I was only ever doing it to be petty and spiteful toward Alfric, and if I’m ever going to make a proper wife for him, I need to be the first to extend my hand in peace.”
“Alright, I’m out too,” said Josen. He began casting the same spell. Most spells like that, people cast from an instruction sheet, and that Josen was doing it without needing to consult anything was a clear sign that he’d planned for this, or something like it. From Lola’s face, this wasn’t something that they’d planned together, but she didn’t seem particularly surprised either.
“Three’s a party,” said Mardin with a sigh once Josen was done. “And now we have to stick together or lose the party bound stuff.”
“Josen, sweetie, you should have waited to see where I was going with this,” said Lola. “I’m handing Vertex over to Alfric, if he wants it, and he does want it.”
“I don’t,” said Alfric, folding his arms across his chest.
“That’s not what you said last time,” said Lola, putting her hands on her hips. “Is it because your party is here? Is that it? You don’t want to say, in front of them, that you’d rather have a serious dungeoneering party?”
“You’re not going to get away with lying to me about things I’ve said on undone days,” said Alfric. He didn’t think he would say those things, especially not to Lola. He didn’t even really think that he felt them. He liked his little life in Pucklechurch, and it had the right trajectory. “So if this was your play, congratulations, you’ve made it, and it didn’t work. I have a serious dungeoneering party.”
“Mmm,” said Lola. “Well unfortunately, I’m about to destroy your party.”
Alfric sighed. The theatricality was killing him. He couldn’t believe there was a time he’d liked that about her. “And how is that?”
“Your star bard,” said Lola, pointing a skinny finger at Verity. “Your family has fallen on hard times, and word from Dondrian is that your mother is trying to find some concerts for you to do.”
Verity’s lips were thin. “I suppose you had something to do with that.”
“Oh, of course not,” said Lola. “Your family’s financial troubles were serendipitous. I was, of course, gleeful when I heard about it, and got the family solicitor on the case right away. As it turns out, your father has sunk quite a bit of money into some supposedly revolutionary ectad business, and as it also happens, I have the financial power to buy him out and single handedly solve their money problems. You wouldn’t have to do concerts, and all I would ask is that you bow out of your current party. That’s the juicy carrot I’m dangling in front of you.” She was giving her cruelest smile, and there was a clear implication that if there was a carrot, then surely there must also be a stick.
Verity said nothing.
“Verity?” asked Alfric.
“I’m thinking,” said Verity.
“Would you?” asked Hannah.
“She could just be saying that,” said Alfric. “Don’t do anything rash.”
“I won’t,” said Verity. “I would need some kind of proof, and a contract, at the very least.”
Lola held out a hand and a sheaf of papers appeared there. “As I said, I had the family solicitor on it, and as I also said, I have my own share of the family fortune to draw on. The ectad business is perhaps not the most solid thing for me to be buying, but I can buy it.”
Verity looked at Alfric. He had no real idea what was going through her mind, but to her, it might have seemed like a fairly good deal. Saving her family from relative ruin without having to lift a finger, getting out of the obligation … Alfric could see how it might appeal, and as soon as Lola had proposed it, he could see that it would impact their relationship even if Verity ultimately refused.
“And you,” said Lola, pointing at Hannah. “You took a bit of digging, but I was able to have a few candid conversations with people from your seminary and former guild. A promising young cleric brought low by politics, quite tragic.”
Hannah’s face was set. “A contingent donation to the church then?” asked Hannah. “Is that it? A way for me to go back to the church in a position of power?”
“Relative power, yes,” said Lola. “Placement in a church with a handful of underlings, certainly. I can’t make you an archbishop, but a lesser role, certainly, somewhere you could prove yourself. You know, I read some of that book you’ve been working on —”
“How dare you,” said Hannah, and for a moment it seemed like she was grabbing for her hammer, though she hadn’t actually brought it with her. The only one armed was Isra, who had a knife at her belt and her bow in hand.
“You offered, dear,” said Lola with a little laugh. “And it’s a fine idea, the book, but you know that it’s going nowhere. You’re bringing glory to Garos in such small and insignificant ways, and you know this.”
“So you’d place a bribe,” said Hannah. “Everythin’ I hate about the church and how it works.”
“Dread politics and hideous influence,” said Lola, laughing to herself. “But if dealt with once, it wouldn’t need to be dealt with again.”
“The Chruch of Garos has more money than you’re able to swing,” said Hannah.
“Oh, but you know that’s irrelevant,” said Lola. “The Church has incredible wealth, but the individuals don’t, and even if they’re not taking the money directly, they might have their own pet projects that need funding. This wouldn’t be the first time a wealthy donor has suggested that someone might be perfect for a position within the church. At least in this case it’s not sheer nepotism, and you’re a proper cleric.”
“Choke on your own spit,” said Hannah. She seemed surprisingly angered by the offer, though Lola wasn’t exactly doing a soft sell.
“You’re angry because you want it,” said Lola, nodding.
“How many times have we had this conversation?” asked Hannah. “You should know I don’t deal with vipers.”
“What do you have for me?” asked Isra.
“Money,” shrugged Lola. “Money is wonderful, it solves almost every problem there is. You live in a dirty shack in the woods, and you’re lucky to be in the party in the first place, then luckier still to have that bow. Honestly, I don’t think I need to offer you anything, because with Verity gone, the party ceases to properly exist anyway. But I'm very nice, so I’ll give you a bit of payment too, for, say, services rendered.”
“Your parents give you too much,” said Alfric.
“Different philosophies,” said Lola. “But Alfric, the biggest difference is that I worked toward taking whatever I could, and you sat there thinking that you had to be a good little boy and do what you were told, even if that meant being poor and powerless.”
“And this is your way of endearing yourself to me?” asked Alfric.
“Oh come now,” said Lola. “Think about what I’m saying to you. All I’ve ever said to you is that you don’t need to shackle yourself. You can be free, not just on the undone days, but in other ways as well. You complain so much about how neat and ordered the world is, how there’s no mystery or danger anymore, and the only reason that’s true for you is because you make it so.”
“Even if I thought that was good advice, I don’t want to be with you,” said Alfric. “So you can destroy your own party, and attempt to destroy mine, and perhaps even succeed, but I will never spend more than one minute with you than I have to.”
Lola sighed. “So dramatic. And you say that, but here we are, talking again. It’s a sign that some part of you really does miss me.”
Alfric frowned. He looked at the other members of Vertex. Josen was still standing there, despite having formally exited the party. They were uncomfortable, but they were waiting for this to play out, to see how all the pieces fell, which meant that maybe they would welcome him back in as a breath of fresh air. The difference in elevation would be the biggest problem, and there would be interpersonal issues, but there were also things personal to Alfric. He didn’t want to leave his party. They had gone through a pretty bad dungeon with fairly mediocre loot, and then they’d all sat down for a nice dinner together. They were friends.
“He’s thinking about it,” said Lola with a smile.
“No,” said Alfric. “No, I’m not.”
“She’s thinking about it,” said Lola, pointing at Verity.
“I am,” said Verity. “But … I don’t think I can.”
“Ah, shame,” said Lola. “You won’t ditch this party to save your family and ensure that you never have to go back to Dondrian? Well, then I suppose if you don’t respond to the carrot, it’s time to bring out the stick.” She sighed, but there was still that same performance to it, and Alfric didn’t believe for a moment that she was regretful about what she was going to say. “No concerts then. You’ll be blacklisted at every venue. Worse, there will be rumors about your mother and father that will follow them to their graves. And believe me, I know bad rumors. Your father will be crushed in the company seizure.”
Verity was thin-lipped. “And I won’t have to do the concerts then.”
Lola rolled her eyes. “Don’t pretend that you don’t care about your family and your duty,” she said. “I know you do.”
“I don’t care enough that they can be weaponized against me,” said Verity.
“You’re barking up the wrong trees,” said Hannah. “I wouldn’t take a position bought for me within the church, not even on principle.”
Lola shook her head. “You say that, but only because the righteous indignation feels good to you. You never wanted to be a dungeoneer forever, it was supposed to be a lark, a reprieve from clerical work.”
“All the same,” said Hannah.
“You agreed to this idea before,” said Lola with a frown. “Is it the group setting? When I try this again, is the group setting a bad idea? Should I talk to you one on one?”
“You’re planning to undo the day,” said Alfric.
“Well of course,” said Lola. “If it had worked, that would have been great, but I think I learned my lessons here, so fine, the day is going to be undone. Besides, I had put it all at cross-purposes from the moment I started testing the arrows in my quiver.”
“Unbelievable,” said Mardin. “Or, exactly believable. You’re the worst.”
“Oh, you don’t know the half of it,” said Lola with a laugh. She turned to Verity. “How about you, care to tell me what works for next time?”
“Why would I do that?” asked Verity.
“It’s called negotiation,” said Lola. “Tell me what you want, what it would take to get you to leave, and I’ll do my best to deliver it.” She leaned forward. “I’m not your adversary, I don’t care about you, I just want you out of the way.”
Isra moved to stand beside Verity.
Alfric could sense the frustration wafting off of Lola. She had played her cards, and they hadn’t been good enough to get what she wanted. Worse, they hadn’t stirred the pot or gotten a good reaction. The time spent in preparation was wasted, and the day would need to be done again, and possibly again, until she found the right set of words.
There wasn’t even a full plan, just a set of levers that Lola had found or created, none of them making a full solution to win Alfric back, though half the point seemed to be to torment him in lieu of actually accomplishing anything.
“You’re pathetic,” said Alfric.
Lola folded her arms and glared at him. “Oh?”
“You talk about the freedom of the undone days, and this is what you do?” asked Alfric. “This petty manipulation, idiotic grandstanding that you dragged your party with you for, trying to provoke some reaction? Out of everything that you could possibly do, all the freedom that you claim we have, this is what it comes down to? You could kidnap us, torture us, but all you do is try to buy your way into my good graces. It’s the product of a dull mind.”
Lola spat to the side. Alfric had worried that he was laying it on too thick, too clearly provoking her, but it seemed to be working.
“Fine,” said Lola. “If we’re talking plainly, if you’re not going to remember this?” She pursed her lips. “I’ve spent the last few weeks working on this problem, and do you know the issue with people? They don’t always have handles to them. I snatched up Verity and took her away for a talk, and after she blabbered on about not wanting to be killed, she explained that she wanted a simple, normal life, one where she could be the unexceptional girl that’s buried under all that talent and godly promise. What do you suggest I’m supposed to do with that, Alfric?”
“You want my advice on how to get your way?” asked Alfric with a bitter laugh. “Stop pussyfooting around. You burnt a day on this and it wasn’t even bold. You keep saying that we can do anything, and you do these manipulations that you wouldn’t even need to be a chrononaut for.”
“She said she kidnapped me,” said Verity.
“She said that, yes,” said Alfric. “But it’s the kind of thing that she might say to make herself seem scary, like a kitten puffing up its fur.” He could feel the heat rising in him. He was trying to piss her off, but he was also venting real anger, which was a dangerous thing.
<Mizuki, be ready to come back,> said Hannah. She had faced away and covered her mouth, and Alfric wouldn’t have noticed if not for the words over the channel.
<Ready when you are, give the word, I’ll be coming in fast,> said Mizuki.
Lola let her alienist bindings unfurl, not all of them, just three curls of green energy that each took a blade from extradimensional space. “I’ve killed everyone here more than once,” said Lola. “I’ve sunk knives into all of your bellies. I slipped into that very house and poisoned your milk a few days ago. I’m not a monster, I always undo it, but yes, I do it, because sometimes it’s nice to know that you have real, absolute power over other people.”
Alfric narrowed his eyes, feigning skepticism. He had no real doubt that she was telling the truth, but a confession alone wouldn’t be enough. “You want us to believe you’re capable of that.”
Lola flicked one of the tendrils and sent her knife sailing through the air. It was fast, so fast there was no time for reaction, and Isra was left looking down at her belly, where the knife was sticking out. She let out a small moan and Hannah rushed over. After a moment, Mardin joined her.
“Alfric, my dear, you have no idea what I’m capable of,” said Lola.
“Internal bleeding,” said Hannah. She was supporting Isra, who was moaning in pain. The knife hadn’t been removed yet, and from what Alfric knew, that was the moment of biggest risk. The guts were also difficult for a cleric of Garos to deal with, though a cleric of Oeyr could offer something there.
“I’ll burn you to a crisp,” said Marsh, who had gotten into a casting stance.
“Oh?” asked Lola, turning on him. “Do you know how many times you’ve threatened me with that?”
“If you’ve been killing us in the undone days, then I imagine a lot,” said Marsh. “But the point stands.”
Lola used a tendril to flip one of her knives up in the air and catch it again. “I know you Marsh, I know all of you. You don’t like to use violence against people. Even in the dungeons you flinch back from things that look human. You’ve threatened me before, and it’s never stopped me from —”
She moved with blinding speed and was on him in an instant. He hadn’t come dressed for battle, so there was only a thin shirt stopping her knife from sinking into his chest. She bounced back, pulling the knife out, and watched him for a moment. He was gasping for breath, words not coming, and he stumbled slightly as blood wet his shirt.
“Don’t,” said Lola, looking at Josen. “You’re worse than him, do you know that? Always hesitant to make a move unless it’s your own skin on the line. Put down the staff, take off the bangles.”
Josen did what she requested, holding up his hands when he was done. Mardin had slowly, tentatively gone over to join Marsh, who was lying prone on the ground, but the cleric’s attention was split. He kept looking at Lola, worried that he would be next. It had become a hostage situation, and none of them were armed. The plan had been for Isra to use her bow and slip the ring on Lola’s finger, but Isra was down, and by the time Alfric got to the bow, there was a good chance he’d be dead. Besides, he didn’t know if they had enough.
“The dungeon escape,” said Alfric. He was breathing hard. “It was you.”
“Of course it was me,” said Lola, rolling her eyes.
She was still watching them, seeing whether anyone was going to make a move against her. Hannah and Mardin were in conference with each other over Marsh, and Alfric was hoping that he hadn’t been stabbed in the heart. Isra was laying on the grass, the cloth around her stomach all bloody, but they had stopped giving her attention, which Alfric took as a good sign.
“Why?” asked Alfric. “To get to speak with me?”
Lola gave a little laugh, but she was still watching them to see whether an attack was coming. “It’s what I’ve been saying, there’s a joy in just doing things and seeing how they pan out. I hadn’t thought we’d be able to contain it, but we got lucky, and it all went well enough. I got to see your team and you got to see mine.” She turned to look at Josen. “Really, if the day’s going to be undone, I should kill you for trying to upstage me. You wanted to make your grand exit so badly, didn’t you?”
Alfric covered his mouth with his hand, trying to play it off as though he was trying to think about what to do. <Now.> “I don’t understand how you did it,” he said. “You had to have captured the monster from somewhere and put it into storage, right?”
Lola turned back toward him. “What’s your plan here, Alfric? Get a confession out of me, then go running to someone with higher priority?”
<Incoming,> said Mizuki.
“Something like that,” said Alfric. He desperately wanted to give Mizuki instructions, to tell her not to kill Lola, because that would undo all of their hard work, but Mizuki should have known that, and speaking into the party channel would have given the game away. Mizuki had the dagger that helped to sneak up on a person, but she needed to get close enough to undo the bindings, and once those were done, they would need to act quickly.
“Well, I’m going to kill you all,” said Lola. “Obviously. And the fact that I haven’t been stopped means that I’m probably going to get away with it. And then I’ll reset, because as I’ve said, I’m not a monster, and I’ll try all this again.”
“You were going to explain how you found the right kind of creature, how you knew what it did,” said Alfric. Better to have her talking than doing.
Lola narrowed her eyes. “Do you know what I love about you?” she asked. “One of the many things.”
“No,” said Alfric. He really didn’t.
“You play every game like you mean it,” said Lola. She began unfurling more tendrils, and Alfric was worried that any moment she would put up her shield as well. “You might have some infinitesimal chance of winning, but you still try to thread the needle anyhow. A lot of people just give up when the going gets tough. They resign themselves to —”
She was interrupted by a blow to her head.
Mizuki had descended from the sky, coming down and bringing her full body weight to bear with the attack. She had smacked Lola with a giant spoon.
Alfric moved in an instant, his easy demeanor dropped, and within a second he was on Lola, sliding a ring onto her finger. She turned to stone, and only then did Alfric take a breath.
“Is everyone okay?” he asked.
“Nah man, I got stabbed,” croaked Marsh.
“They’ll both live,” said Hannah. “I’m worried about Isra’s guts, but having a cleric of Oeyr on hand for fast healing is just about the best circumstance possible.”
“What was this?” asked Josen. He had quickly picked up his implements from the ground and rearmed himself. “Was this … planned?”
“Loosely,” said Alfric. “There was more improvisation than I’d have liked.”
“More stabbing than I’d have liked,” said Marsh. He looked down at his bloody shit. “She punctured a lung.”
“Missed the heart,” said Hannah. “Hard to tell whether it was on purpose or not.”
“We’ll need to get both of them to the temple,” said Mardin. “Have the cleric of Kesbin clear out the internal reservoirs of blood, clean up anything we left in the wake of our healing.”
“We don’t have a cleric of Kesbin,” said Alfric. “They’ll need to go to Liberfell.”
Josen stepped forward and looked at the statue. “You’re intending to keep the day,” he said. “You’re intending to use this testimonial against her.”
“And the attacks,” said Alfric. “Yes.”
“Would have been nice to be in the loop,” said Marsh. He had taken off his bloody shirt, leaving him bare chested, and he kept rubbing the place where the blade had gone into his chest.
“Sorry,” said Alfric, though he only said it to be polite.
“Is that permanent?” asked Grig, who had been mostly silent up to this point. He went to inspect Lola’s stone form. “Did you … kill her?”
“It’s temporary,” said Alfric. “And only for today. I’ll report to my guild and they’ll have someone here just after the witching hour to collect her.”
“Still our word against hers, right?” asked Grig. “Will this … stick?”
Alfric went over to Verity’s bag and pulled out a slender book, which he cracked oopen. He leafed through it until he got to the conversation they’d just had, and felt a bit of relief that it was all there. The book didn’t tag who was talking, but it would have to do.
“Surveillance?” asked Grig.
“Yes,” said Alfric. “A weak form of it. But for this to stick, the day has to stand. That means no one gives any other chrononaut a reason to undo it, and dealing with the aftermath of the attacks, if any.”
“We should get to the temple,” said Hannah. “Internal bleedin’ on both counts, and a collapsed lung … I did my best to fix it, but Mardin did his work, but it’s the kind of thing that warrants some attention.”
“I hit her on the head kind of hard,” said Mizuki, reaching down to touch the statue. “I was worried she’d put up her shields, her alienist ones.”
“They’re volatile,” said Josen. “They’ve killed her before. I wince whenever she puts them up. And they wouldn’t have protected her from either Marsh or the full force of my staff. Nor from you.”
“Is she,” Mizuki took a breath, then looked at Hannah. “Is there a chance that I killed her?”
“If you killed her, she resets the day,” said Alfric. He bit his lip. “And if we think that’s the case, then better for us to seek out some higher priority chrononaut and have them send back the information at least, though that will probably guarantee that nothing serious happens to her.”
“Really?” asked Hannah.
“Do I need to be a part of this?” asked Marsh. “Because I’m ready to warp and don’t really want to have a bunch of blood floating around in my lungs if I can help it.”
“Come, I’ll take you,” said Hannah. She looked at Mizuki. “For what it’s worth, a crack to the head can kill, but it’s more likely to cause some short term damage.”
After a bit of discussion, Isra, Verity, Marsh, Hannah, and Mardin all left to go to the temple, having agreed that they’d be silent on the issue of Lola and that they’d give a cover story of training gone wrong. It was a temporary measure, just to make sure that the two serious wounds could be properly looked at. From the temple, they’d either wait for help from Liberfell, or go there on their own.
“There’s a second possibility,” said Alfric. “That Lola was hit on the head, and that the hit will kill her, but hasn’t yet. The ring suspends time for whoever is trapped using it, that was my experience confirmed by a Qymmic inspection.”
“Meaning that I might have murdered her,” said Mizuki. She was staring at the statue. “And if we wait until tomorrow to bring her out, then she’ll be just … looping through the aftereffects of a mortal blow a bunch of times until she’s out of loops.”
“Yes,” said Alfric. “And we need to talk about what we want to do about that possibility.”
Grig cleared his throat. “Are we all in this together?” he asked. “Talking about this, it’s tantamount to conspiracy to commit murder, isn’t it? Because you could save her by undoing the day, and by having her in the ring, we’re depriving her of the ability to save herself, which … isn’t good. If Mizuki did kill her in that way, then it seems to me that we’re all rapidly becoming accessories just by standing here and talking about it.”
“She stabbed two people and was going to kill us all, she said that,” said Mizuki. She looked over at Grig. “It has to be done, didn’t it?”
“I don’t know the law well enough,” said Grig with a shrug. “And we’re in Greater Plenarch, which might handle things a bit differently, and the point is, I don’t know.”
“Most likely she’s fine,” said Alfric.
“We’re talking about what we do if she’s not,” said Josen. “Personally, I would prefer her dead.”
“See?” asked Grig. “See, that’s the sort of thing that I don’t wager we should be saying, because if this somehow makes its way to court, someone will ask me, ‘how did you feel about Lola’ and I want to be able to say that I had some reservations, but if we’re all being pitted against each other —”
“You’re talking too much,” said Josen. “I would prefer her dead. Everyone else feels the same. You can’t ignore everything she said and did. In fact, if I thought we could get away with it, I would suggest dumping this statue in the nearest lake.”
“I don’t think we could get away with it,” said Mizuki. “She probably reports back to her guild or whatever, and someone would come looking. Everyone would have to successfully lie about it, and to chrononauts.”
“It’s irrelevant,” said Alfric. “We’re not killing her. We’re preventing her from redoing the day, that’s it. Everything else will be by the book.” He turned to Mizuki. “I’m sorry that the burden falls to you.”
“It’s fine,” said Mizuki, though it clearly wasn’t. “Your plan is to report this to … someone?”
“To my father,” said Alfric. “And as I said, he’ll probably be here first thing come the witching hour, having already talked with various people about the legal and political aspects.”
“If she escapes consequences, we’re doomed,” said Josen. “She’ll come for us and kill us, permanently.”
“Or make our lives miserable,” said Grig. “After she bought her way into the party, I kind of got the feeling that she ended up spending a year as a dungeoneer just out of burning spite.”
<There’s a cleric from Kesbin coming,> said Hannah. <We think they’ll both be alright, it’s just a matter of precaution.>
<Thanks,> said Alfric.
“I’m going to have nightmares about her,” said Mizuki. She had a deep frown. “Knowing that she’s out there somewhere, even if it’s in prison. It was bad enough before.”
“You didn’t even hear what she had to say,” said Grig. “Worse than I had imagined.”
“We’ll deal with her, one way or another,” said Alfric. He turned to look at Mizuki. “I’ll do everything in my power to protect you.” He hoped that was enough.
They ended up bringing the statue inside, though it made a grim counterpart to the wooden statues that his father had carved, which sat in a square at the edges of the garden. Grig and Josen eventually left, and some time later, Isra returned home with Hannah and Verity in tow.
They talked it to death, then when they felt exhausted by all the talking, the adjourned to their rooms and didn’t meet against until dinner, which Mizuki had prepared with Hannah’s help, a Kiromon-inspired dish of buns filled with meat and vegetables, pungent with spices once they were bitten into.
“I actually wish that I had been hurt worse,” said Isra.
“Why?” asked Mizuki. “You wanted to be stabbed?”
“A worse injury would mean more proof of harm,” said Isra.
“You’re lucky that Mardin was there,” said Hannah. “A gut wound like the one you had can easily be fatal, and there’s not a lot I could have done about it.”
Isra shrugged.
There was tension in the air, and it lasted until bedtime. The statue of Lola had been placed in the living room, prone on the floor, and no one wanted to go in there.
Alfric knew that he was going to have trouble sleeping. He sat in bed, willing himself to sleep, nervous about waking up for the witching hour, and thinking about Lola. It was possible that this would all wash away and be forgotten, and possible that they’d just consigned her to death. The hit kept going through Alfric’s mind, the image of Mizuki zipping down from the sky and smashing the spoon against Lola’s head.
There was a soft, tentative knock on his door.
“Come in,” he said.
It was Mizuki, of course. She was in her silk robes, typical nighttime wear for her, and she looked nervous. “Hey,” she said. “Can you … wake me up? When the witching hour comes, I mean. I was going to stay awake until it came around, but you said it’s right in the middle of the night.”
“I can wake you,” said Alfric. “Get some sleep.”
“Yeah,” said Mizuki. “I’m not sure I’m going to be able to. Are you … mad at me?”
“No,” said Alfric.
“I’d understand if it was complicated for you,” said Mizuki. “If … I mean, you were supposed to marry each other, she was your first girlfriend, your only real girlfriend, it would be — I’d understand, that’s all I’m saying. We never really talked about any of that.”
“We don’t need to, especially not right now,” said Alfric. “Maybe if this chapter of my life really is behind me, I could talk about it, but for now, we both need some sleep.”
“Okay,” said Mizuki. “Good night.”
Alfric sat in his bed. The guild message was already sent. His father and mother would get it just after the rollover to the next day. He had debated whether to encipher it, but had elected to mark it confidential with no message heading. In theory, that meant that no one except them would look at it, though there was no way to detect a snoop. It would all be public soon enough, and likely cause a stir, especially when Lola’s family, the Underhills, got word of it.
He did eventually fall asleep, and woke up before the guild messages went through, which meant that he hadn’t missed the witching hour. He sat there, nervous, stomach quivering from the stress, worried about what the result would be. It was entirely possible that they’d already had a council of chrononauts and that Lola’s fate — along with everyone else’s — had been decided.
The witching hour came and went. The guild message box filled up. Alfric breathed a sigh of relief, and got to reading.
Comments
fbt
while this is a horrifying idea, it seems almost inevitable, in a vaguely gresham's law kinda way. I, too, am curious what, if anything, prevents it.
fbt
glad that psycho is at least provisionally handled.
L
This is excellent plotting and Chekhov-gunnery. I do have questions, though. I've been thinking for a while about how the existence of chrononauts might...affect literally everything. Fridge logic. It reminds me of the level 10 Obfuscation discipline from Vampire: The Masquerade, where you can make the entire world literally forget you ever existed. Okay, I don't actually have QUESTIONS, like doubts about your author skills, having read Worth the Candle, but I'm CONFUSED about some parts of the world so far. It goes like this. P1: Some CNs have precedence over others, for apparently genetic reasons P2: Some CNs have more {"do-over" days before they die of timesickness} than others, again from genetics P3: Some CNs are going to be real freaks along both of those axes, based on how genetics + probability occasionally creates John von Neumann C1: You could have a young, untested, sociopathic CN with higher priority and more do-overs than the most respected and august personage among the CNs C2: Teen Sociopath could murderously outlast August Personage and work zir way down the list until ze was the only remaining CN, and Bob's your uncle. How would our beloved CN guild know that they were NOT in that universe until it was too late? Alfric's dad's "meh, you still need to get her pregnant if possible" reaction kind of suggests people aren't thinking all this through or are assuming that the existing system is fine because nothing has happened to it yet that anyone remembers. How about the non-CN citizens? I guess the occasional X-Risk/Keter-level dungeon escape justifies keeping CNs alive instead of just collectively resolving to murder all of them over and over until it sticks, which (in a world without dungeon escapes) is pretty clearly the dominant strategy, but that's not the placid mostly-post-scarcity world the squad is living in. It's a world where you cannot possibly know whether you're living in a CN-operated hellscape where you and your family get raped to death every third day by Bizarro Alfric, to harvest your acausal adrenochrome or whatever, and just don't remember it. It seems like some nonzero part of the population would be NOT OKAY with that. It makes me feel ill imagining living in a world with CNs. Again, I'm certain you have all this figured out, but I'm not seeing hints of the shape of it yet.
