Grand Game 516: Denied

You have teleported 97 yards. You are hidden.

I teleported out of the Crooked Man using the furthest mindglow visible in my consciousness. I’d been tempted, for just a moment, to stay within the confines of the tavern and exact revenge on Dinara’s men.

That would’ve been petty though—not to mention dangerous.

But more importantly, it wouldn’t have served my goals.

The den chief wasn’t an enemy, nor were the rest of the thieves. Yes, for the near future I had to avoid Dinara because of his commission and yes, I would have to stay vigilant in any further dealings I had with the thieves—they were truly the mercenary sort. But I’d already gotten what I’d sought.

Money and answers.

Once my present troubles were resolved… well, then, I could see about returning to the underworld. Its denizens and I had more than a few things in common. For now, though, some distance would be good.

Slipping out of the shadows, I made my way to the agreed upon meeting point, and to my relief, spotted Shael heading the same way from afar. Good, he’s made it out in one piece. And by the looks of it, no one was tailing him.

“Any problems?” I asked as I caught up to the half-elf.

“None,” Shael pronounced with satisfaction. “I was out before anyone even realized anything was wrong.”

I nodded. Hugo’s inside knowledge of the Crooked Man had made all the difference. His gang had long since figured out the location of the focus crystals controlling the tavern’s wards. 

Knowing all too well the nature of his fellow players, the den chief had chosen not to place the artifacts in a locked and guarded room but had hidden them away where no one would ever think to look—in a secret compartment in one of the guest rooms. Unfortunately for him, Sintar had found it. 

“What about getting in?” I asked.

“A breeze,” Shael replied. “I walked in through the front door, hired the room, and bypassed the alarms. Hugo’s information was spot on.”

“Excellent,” I murmured.

Shael glanced at me sideways. “Where to now?”

I smiled. “Not onto another detour if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s time we left Nexus. We’ll stop by Kesh on the way out to drop off the money, but then it’s straight to the teleportation platform.”

Shael grinned. “Excellent,” he echoed.

✵ ✵ ✵

You have equipped a set of the emporium robes, concealing your identity. 

Shael and I recovered Safyre’s robes and made our way to Kesh’s compound without incident. When we got there, the half-giants waved me in without comment. “He stays with us,” Lake said, pointing at Shael.

Nodding agreeably, the half-elf made himself comfortable while I continued onward. The inside of the emporium was quieter than usual, and I passed no one on my way to Kesh’s office.

“Come in,” the old merchant said as I raised my hand to knock on the door.

Doing as she bade, I shut the door behind me before lowering the hood concealing my face. “I have your money,” I said, beaming at Kesh. “Most of it anyway.”

She did not return my smile. “Sit,” she ordered perfunctorily.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, my good mood evaporating.

“Sit,” Kesh repeated, and this time I didn’t fail to mark the weariness in her tone. “You’ll want to be seated for this.”

My trepidation rising, I slipped into the chair facing her. “Tell me.”

“I’ve received a response from Loken.”

“And?” I asked, stilling.

“He’s denied your request.”

I blinked. “What?”

“The trickster does not want to meet.”

Kesh’s words made as little sense the second time around as it did the first. I knew what she meant, of course. What stymied me was the nature of Loken’s reply.

After asking Kesh to reach out, I had considered and planned for every possible response from the Shadow Power—or so I’d thought—everything from a demand to change the meeting spot, questions about why I wanted the meet, demands for assurances, and questions about where I’d been. I’d even anticipated and planned for Kesh being unable to reach Loken.

What I’d not expected was a flat refusal.

“He doesn’t want to meet—at all?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around Loken’s rejection.

Kesh nodded.

I bit my lip. “You’re sure it was Loken who replied? Not one of his lackeys trying to—” 

“I’m sure,” she cut in. “The trickster’s answers came back almost immediately, and I’ve spent the better part of the day working my contacts to verify the source. There’s no doubt. Loken is in Nexus. My letter was hand delivered to him. The response is his.”

I nodded slowly. “How exactly did he phrase his refusal?”

“No.”

I stared at her. “That’s it? One word? No explanation?”

“That’s it,” she replied, her own expression tight. “What do you think it means?”

“I’m not… sure,” I replied, leaning back. 

Why was Loken refusing to meet? 

Had not telling him about Saya been a mistake? The last time the Shadow Power and I had spoken—many weeks ago—he’d seemed almost desperate for me to steal Paya’s chalice, and I’d assumed he’d jump at the chance to check on what progress I’d made in the interim. I’d either misread the situation or… 

Loken was toying with me. 

It would not be the first time either. What game is he—

“Michael?”

My eyes darted back to Kesh.

“What are you going to do?”

“The only thing I can,” I replied slowly. “Resolve matters in the sector 12,560 myself.”

She stared at me searchingly. “Can you?”

“I must,” I said grimly. “I don’t know what game Loken is playing, but I don’t have time to indulge his love for theatrics. I’ve wasted enough time as it is. I will rescue Saya and deal with the envoy myself.”

Kesh did not question my choice further. “Tell me what you need.”

Removing the pouches of stygian powder I’d obtained from Nicola and Dinara, I set them down on her desk. “This is all the money I’ve been able to acquire. I know it’s a bit short but if you can—” 

“Don’t worry,” Kesh said, running an expert eye over the bags. “I’ll make it work. You’ll have your shield generator.”

I bowed my head in gratitude. “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do.” Kesh frowned. “But with regards to the legendary artifacts and other gear you wanted, I’m afraid I can’t complete their delivery until you come up with the money.”

I sighed. “I understand. And trust me, I’m working on it.”

“I can, however, give you this much,” Kesh added. Waving her hand, she materialized a small cache of stone coins. Turning my gaze downward, I inspected the objects that had appeared on the desk.

This is a set of unmarked soulbound faction tokens. Except for being indestructible, each token possesses no further properties. 

The tavern has lost 20,000 gold. Money remaining in the Wyvern Roost’s bank account: 300 gold.

There were far fewer tokens on the desk than I’d requested, but even so, they were more than welcome, and I swept them into my backpack without complaint. 

You have acquired 20 x unmarked soulbound faction tokens. Do you wish to soul-bind the items?

Ignoring the Adjudicator’s question, I turned back to Kesh. “They cost one thousand gold each?”

She nodded. “That’s the discount price too.”

I winced. “Thanks.”

Kesh inclined her head. “Is there anything else you need?”

Pausing for thought, I mentally reshuffled my priorities. For the next few days, weeks, or however long it took, I would be tied up in the wolves’ valley. That meant many of the tasks I planned on completing in the short term would have to be put on the back burner or allocated to my allies. Reclaiming the nether-infested sector was too important to just ignore.

“Yes,” I replied at last.

“Go on,” Kesh encouraged.

Running through my mental list, I identified the tasks I could safely ask Kesh to handle. “Do you know of a crafter capable of working with soulbound items?”

If the old merchant was surprised by the question, she didn’t show it. “Of course, I know many such crafters. What sort are you specifically looking for?”

“A bladesmith,” I replied, laying down Sunfury’s feather shaft on her desk. “One capable of creating a shortsword from this.”

“Ah,” Kesh exclaimed, her eyes gleaming as she picked up the shaft. “A phoenix’s feather. Fascinating. I know someone capable of forging this into a weapon. He will be quite excited at the opportunity, I assure you.” She paused. “I can’t give you a time or cost estimate, though.”

“It doesn’t matter how long it takes or how much it costs. Just see it done, please.”

“I will,” she promised. “Do you have any requirements for the blade?”

I shrugged. “Tell your crafter to do the best he can. As long as it’s a shortsword.”

“Noted. What else can I do for you?”

“Contact the stygian brotherhood,” I replied. 

Once again, Kesh evinced no surprise. “I’d thought you might ask that. I assume you want me to negotiate on your behalf for their help in closing the rift in that sector of yours?”

Exhaling heavily, I nodded. 

Ideally, I didn’t want to depend on the stygian brotherhood, at all. If I had my way, the army we forged for our assault on the stygians would be made up of werewolves, rehomed possessed, and scions from House Pestilence. But there were still too many unknowns with all three groups. 

I didn’t know yet if I could convince the werewolves to our cause, let alone Pestilence, nor if Adriel could rehome the possessed. And unfortunately, I didn’t have the luxury of doing everything in a stepwise fashion anymore.

“I’ll reach out to Huntmistress Kitara,” Kesh said. “How much can I tell her?”

“Tell the huntmistress the rift is guarded by four overlords, a young void tree, and a nest numbering in the thousands. If she feels her people are up to the challenge of facing such a force, I will welcome their aid. Needless to say, don’t share my name with her.”

“Of course not.”

“Assuming the brotherhood is willing, ask them to begin gathering,” I went on. “They must be ready to move on my call and should not expect more than a day’s notice.”

“Got it. Where should they assemble?”

“Any sector, just not Nexus. We’ll provide the portals to take them to the rift.”

Kesh nodded. “And what are you offering the brotherhood in exchange for their aid?”

“All the stygian remains from the nest, including the bodies of the overlords,” I replied, knowing I had little choice in the matter. “But not the void tree itself.” 

Kesh rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Kitara may deem your offering insufficient.” 

I grimaced. “Negotiate with her as you see fit.”

“Very well. Huntmistress Kitara will likely want an upper limit on the time her people spend waiting for your call.”

I nodded. “That’s fair.” I couldn’t expect the brotherhood to wait forever. “Tell her, we’ll make contact within a month.” I paused. “If I can't do so personally… Safyre will act on my behalf.”

Kesh frowned. “You’re rushing things,” she noted.

“I am,” I admitted, “but I don’t have much choice in the matter. If the rift is not closed soon, the sector will be lost.”

“I see,” Kesh murmured. “Then I won’t tell you to slow down. Securing that sector is vital.”

“Agreed.”

Kesh sighed. “You’ve given me more than enough to do, but I’ll ask again, what else do you need?”

I didn’t answer immediately. “There is one more thing.”

Kesh waited expectantly.

“I need information on a sector.”

Kesh frowned. “Information is not something I usually deal in as you already know. But I’ll do what I can. Which sector?”

“Sector 90,830,” I said, rattling off the number of the sector that in times gone by had been Death’s home.

To my surprise, recognition sparked in Kesh’s eyes. “Don’t you think you have enough to deal with already?” she asked reproachfully. “Why tangle with the Awakened Dead further?”

“I don’t want to— Wait! What?” Understanding dawned. “Are you saying,” I asked slowly, “that sector 90,830 is owned by the Awakened Dead?”

Kesh looked at me strangely. “You didn’t know?”

I shook my head.

“Oh. Then no doubt, you’ll be interested to learn that Erebus’ main stronghold is in sector 90,830.”

Bowing my head, I stifled a groan. House Death’s former home and Erebus base were one and the same?

That could not be a coincidence.