"Thank you so much for helping bring my son home. How can I ever repay you?" Suzanne gripped Leal's hands in hers as strongly as she could, overcome with gratitude.
The grip wasn't as strong as Leal would have hoped.
"It was partly my fault he ended up there in the first place. It was the least I could do, and I'm the one who needs to apologize to you for worrying you so. Please, if you feel that you need to repay me then just get better, okay? For Luke's sake as well." Leal's discomfort was easy to camouflage as just embarrassment with being thanked like this. Suzanne wasn't his main mother, but she had been one for long enough to leave an impression. He remembered how sad she had been, and he hated that she'd gotten this sick because of Luke and himself. We're going to have to tell her the truth.
Yes. Luke, who Suzanne had just finished checking over and hugging into submission stood in the corner and watched. But how much of it?
Don't ask me. Noir would have said not to tell her anything, because ignorance was no excuse for letting the Score kill her children. She's your mother. Leal had Noir, he couldn't take Luke's mother. Or take responsibility for her.
Although of course they were very grateful Leal found his new office's approval fast-tracked and himself pushed out of Baticul as fast as possible. Luke had to recover and his friend was trustworthy. That was the problem. A trustworthy friend might know too much or assist Luke, and they didn't want that.
"I will go to Akzeriuth, I will force the inhabitants to leave by threatening them with my hyperresonance, I will have the troops you send me destroy the deserted city, and then I will fulfill the rest of the Score and ensure Kimlasca's prosperity by ending my own life. I will not kill ten thousand innocent people." That was his ultimatum. "If I was willing to do that, if I were that sort of coward, I would have gone with Van when he told me the truth. But I am no coward and I am no traitor. I am willing to die for the sake of Kimlasca, I have proved that by staying here for seven years knowing the truth. But I will not let the hands of our nation, the nation Natalia will one day rule, be defiled with that sort of bloodshed."
Luke turned to face Grand Maestro Mohs. "The Score does not require the sephiroth's destruction along with Akzeriuth. That is what Van wants you to think. His ambition is to destroy the Score itself, and he believes that twisting the Score's prophecy to allow for the destruction of the sephiroth will allow him to accomplish this."
Mohs' jaw dropped as he stared at Luke. "What?!"
"I don't know much, only the relevant passage of the Score, which you just read part of, and the propaganda he tried to feed me. He told me that the Score predicted my death and that sacrificing a replica in my place to buy time and destroying the Score was the only way I could survive. I chose not to survive at such a price. As I told his sister, you force him to explain himself. Or perhaps you would be wiser to just kill him. I myself refuse to entertain any more of his lies. Good day, Father, Uncle." Luke bowed and turned on his heel, not sparing Mohs another glance.
That went well.
They haven't sent the guards after me, at least. We'll know when the time comes.
Sheridan, having changed hands in living memory, wasn't all that loyal to Kimlasca. Their weapons ended up in Malkuth as well, after all. Given the choice between getting funding for their airship from the Crown, which would insist on using it and the flightstone for warfare and probably get it shot down over the ocean (and there would go any hope of building others!) and nothing they would have chosen nothing. Outside investors who wouldn't spill the beans were another matter. Sure, fontech buffs knew about the project, but there were very few fontech buffs in the military.
War was about breaking things, and people, and a fontech researcher's response to their new invention being attacked would be, "No! My baby!" Established technologies like the landships were one thing: the militaries of both nations had learned how to build and maintain them.
Leal could copy memories but he'd found himself having to do that every time he came here just to keep up, so he'd given up trying to pass himself off as anything but a dabbler. Knowing what they knew didn't give him the type of mind that could understand it and make new connections. His power gave Leal an appreciation of what was meant by the word genius. "So, you think she'll be ready for a test flight this soon?"
"Of course." Tamara chuckled. "Iemon's grandchildren are already training for it. You need young reflexes for that sort of thing, you know. Once we're sure she's reasonably sturdy we'll start sending her out on those routes you gave us. You're right, that will allow the Albiore to avoid stormy areas until we can make the craft's flightstone strong enough to endure them. Without you I don't know how we would manage the tests safely. Thank you so much for taking our air current measuring device to all those places for us."
"You're welcome. And it's not like I'm not benefitting as well. Once the Albiore can fly safely I won't have Din breathing down my neck about all the things that need to have gotten to Grand Chokmah yesterday all the time."
Tamara chuckled. "Ah yes, that girl is a handful. She reminds me of myself at her age, except interested in money instead of fontech. It's not that I'm not interested in money, but only as a tool like any other."
"I'll tell her that, I'm sure she'll be flattered. You use money to build flying craft, Din uses money to build companies. The way you both talk about it is a lot alike. Parts have to work together, doing it this way works better than the other thing…" Leal shrugged.
"Well, it's thanks to her that it's complete this soon and this project might even be self-funding." A lot of Sheridan's income was being soaked up by projects like the Albiore: if it weren't for the war buildup providing the city of weapon-makers with a huge amount of business Kimlasca's tax increases would be causing the city government's funds to be severely depleted. As it was the Trading Company's investment was a big, big help.
They technically owned the Albiore, or an Albiore, and the right to send it on as many flights as was reasonable in exchange for providing all reasonable funding necessary to completing the construction and thoroughly testing it to the satisfaction of Iemon, Tamara, and the others. In other words, they got it for keeps when the researchers had perfected it, were bored with it, and decided to move on to the next toy in exchange for letting Sheridan provide the hangar space and the labor free of charge.
Din had wanted to take them for all they had got, but Noir had shouted her down, Leal backing her up. Noir knew fontech buffs: they were why her city was able to have fresh water, the comforts of home, and toys to keep orphans distracted from what they had lost. Try to take control of their babies away from them and they'd react the same way any parent would. Care about their creation as much as they did and help them raise them right and they'd go the extra mile. Unmotivated researchers wouldn't have created a defense system for Nam Cobanda that Leal had trouble getting through.
The fact that Tamara and Din now got along reasonably well and Iemon had said that if he was thirty years younger he'd ask Noir to marry him was worth the investment of time and risk of money. If Leal couldn't get Iemon to sell them future Albiores at a third or less the price he'd charge their competitors Leal would buy a turban and eat it.
He wasn't going to copy Din's odd speech patterns, or Astor's own persona, but there were worse catchphrases. "So, the first test flight will be in a week? I'll be here then, although I may not stay in Sheridan the whole time. Probably not, actually. If you need me send messages to the office."
"Of course, of course." They didn't want him hanging around getting underfoot either.
"Hey, Golden Boy!" Noir shook his shoulder.
Leal snapped out of it. "Hey! I was about to break my high score!"
"I swear, you're worse than even the littlest of the cowboys." Noir patted her former best monster tamer on the head anyway. "We're low on milk again and it's almost Unbirthday Day." That was when Nam Cobanda celebrated the birthdays of all the children who didn't know when they had been born. Since Leal's 'birthday' could be one of several days this included him.
Leal pouted at her. "Is that all I am to you? The grocery boy?"
"Hey, you just spent three hours playing Dragon Buster and from what you told me when you got here you've spent the last week running around getting into trouble as usual. There are no freeloaders in my family, right Leal?" There had better not be, as playful as her tone almost always was. "Here's the shopping list." There wasn't only food and other necessities on here, like parts for the fon machines and raw materials, but the birthday presents some people wanted to give other people. Mostly everyone on Nam Cobanda made everything themselves, like the costumes, but a lot of the money-earners didn't have the time to make presents when they were busy performing or working on the machinery.
Leal looked it over as he stood up. Cake, ice cream, fruit cocktails: Unbirthday Day used up a lot of milk. "I'm going to need to make several trips to Engave…" Even upgraded item bags could only hold twenty of a single item at a time in their dimensional pocket without getting them mixed up and losing them. Leal's business one dumped his extra trade goods directly to Din, but doing that with food people intended to actually eat, let alone gels or bottles, wasn't a good idea. Luckily he could give things to the Ant Lion Man in Chesedonia, who kept an odd fontech portal to Nam Cobanda that allowed Noir to drop off supplies while the Circus was on that side of the world, so he wouldn't have to come back to the island after every visit to Engave.
"Get going then, boy." Noir draped herself over him casually, her equivalent of a hug. "We'll shut down the fireworks at sunset this Gnomeday." That way he and the goods could get in quickly, without having to dodge like crazy or wait until the next time Noir was scheduled to leave or return by sea, which she wasn't going to do when there was Unbirthday Day to prepare for.
"I'll be there."
"What? All the food in the storehouse has been stolen?" Leal stared at Rose. "You're kidding me!" Noir placed bulk orders in advance with Rose, the village's headwoman: it was cheaper that way.
"I'm afraid not. Oh, hello Colonel." Leal turned around to see a familiar face who stared at him with well-concealed horror.
"Hello, Jade." He grinned and waved.
The Necromancer cleared his throat. "Are you here making a delivery?" Not another costume!
"No, I'm here to pick up the supplies for the Dark Wing Circus. What are you doing here?"
Jade hid his relief as skillfully as his horror. "Reprovisioning for a trip to Baticul. There have been border provocations and so on, although I'm sure you're aware of that." Knowledge was money.
"I know, the tension has forced our competitors to raise their prices." And given the Trading Company an excuse to raise theirs as well.
"Well, I suppose war always has led to prosperity… for the winners."
"I can think of a few exceptions." The Dawn War, for one. "Anyway, do you know who stole all the food?"
"You don't?" True, Leal did have a reputation to uphold. And the door opened again.
"Fon Master Ion? It's a pleasure to see you here."
"Sir Leal? Is that you?" Ion's smile widened instantly.
"Who else would it be?" Luke wouldn't be caught dead looking like this. "And what did I say about calling me sir?"
"You two have met? I thought you avoided Daath like the plague."
"Well, sometimes you catch the plague." Leal had to laugh. "I have been there a couple of times. Not for very long, though."
"Leal's very memorable," Ion explained, backing him up. Things related to Leal and Ion both being replicas and Leal having helped Ion become stronger so he would be the last replica made were private. "What are you doing here?"
"Picking up supplies for the Dark Wing Circus, only it turns out everything's been stolen." The door opened again. "And who is this?" he asked Ion, recognizing the girl as an Oracle Knight.
"This is Anise, my Fon Master Guardian." And a friend, it seemed. "Anise, this is Leal Zaon."
Her eyes instantly turned calculating. "The Leal Zaon? Wow! It's a pleasure to meet you!"
"And you, Anise…" He held out his hand. There was no way she wasn't a spy for someone. Not in the Order of Lorelei.
"Cantor Anise Tatlin." Mohs, it seemed. Well, at least she wasn't working for Van and had orders to keep Ion away from Van. She'd actually helped Ion come here to avert the war… Her parents had horrible debts which were why she was working for Mohs? Well, that was easily fixable.
Who knew that being unable to buy clothing would turn into an understanding of what exactly could and couldn't be solved by throwing money at it?
"Leal, I found cheagle fur in the storehouse." Ion held it out to him.
"You're right, that's definitely cheagle fur." He pocketed it. "I'll head up there and find out what's going on. Cheagles eat grass, so I have no idea what they'd want with human food."
"Thank you, Leal."
"It's no problem. I've been wanting to visit there for awhile, although I'll have to cut it short since I have supplies to move. I first went up to the Woods…Oh, five years back, when the Dark Wings Circus passed through Engave on the way to Grand Chokmah. Have you ever seen a cheagle?"
"No." Ion shook his head. "They're the sacred animal of the Order of Lorelei, though. I think I should go with you."
"Ion, no! That's too dangerous," Anise protested.
"It's my duty as Fon Master." Ion refused to budge: Leal was proud of him.
The Colonel adjusted his glasses. "In that case, I think I should come along as well. After all, we can't have any accidents happen to undeserving parties." As opposed to deserving ones, like Leal.
"Sure, your soldiers can load it all on that landship of yours and bring it back here. When do we head out?"
'We?" Jade faked surprise.
"Well, you look pretty light, Ion, but I don't know about you, Anise. I mean, you're thin, but I'm betting a lot of that's muscle, since you're an Oracle knight, and muscle weighs more than fat. You look like a good breeze would blow you over but I bet there's an iron hand in that velvet glove. I suppose we could walk most of the way. That would give time for the Tartarus to get underway and catch up with us, Jade."
"Walk?" Anise asked. "As opposed to what?"
"I have a fonic arte that lets me fly," Leal informed her proudly. "It's my own arte: no one knows it but me. But it's a little awkward to carry passengers. The arte could handle you fine, but I'd still be carrying you, and you'd be just as heavy to me as you would be if I were carrying you along on the ground. It works by pushing air around as opposed to weightlessness." Those were a couple of the methods flying monsters used.
"Oh. You don't have to carry me, Leal, I can walk," Ion said. He wasn't that ill.
"Can, yes. Have to, no. I can carry people three times what you have to weigh, easy. You're a kid, Ion, Fon Master or no. Live a little. Think of it as helping me stay in shape. You wouldn't want me to start going downhill when I hit thirty like some grouchy old men we know, would you?" Cough, Jade, cough.
"If you don't mind…"
"I wouldn't have offered if I minded," Leal said with an easy, sunny smile that was answered by Ion's own jubilant grin.
Jade frowned and shook his head. No, any resemblance was only in his imagination, surely. If anything, it was Anise that should be reminding him of the conniving merchant.
He reminded himself to make very sure that Anise never found out how much bribe money Peony was willing to toss around to get Jade into embarrassing outfits. At least he could count on Leal not to tell her, not when that would cut into Leal's cut.
