Elphaba slammed the book closed in frustration. Her care for the objects had lessoned as they were no longer so rare. This book's particular offense to her was being the last sorcery book found in the Crage library. The libraries of Three Queens, Brisco, and Ozma Towers had not turned up any on the subject. Elphaba suspected that Crage coveted their knowledge.
The green girl took off her glass and rubbed the bridge of her nose. The search to break the binding spell already cast on them was not going anywhere, let alone finding a spell to protect them. Glancing over to Glinda's empty bed, the green girl felt a pang of desperation. She had to protect Glinda; Nessa too, though Elphaba felt ashamed the thought came afterwards. In fact, she had to protect them all.
Sighing, Elphaba stood up. She double checked that all the books from Crage library were copied, and put them in her satchel. Spying a letter she had to send, she quickly scanned it and placed it in between the pages of a book where it would not wrinkle. Grabbing her pocket watch off the table she flipped it open. Good; she had plenty of time. Pocketing it, she flung her satchel over her shoulders, and followed it with her jacket. The weather was turning.
Hurried strides took her out of the dorm and into the courtyard. Glancing upward, she decided she did not need the jacket. A flash of annoyance came at the thought of other demands on her time. She had another meeting today of Eminent business; a cattle farmer whose herd could help bring some needed relief to farmers in Munchkinland. Elphaba just hoped it would not take up too much time.
At the library Elphaba returned the books. The librarian did not give her a second look; she was well acquainted with Elphaba. The green girl hurriedly dove into the inventory list looking for some book she may have missed. She found nothing but that did not surprise her. The catalogue was incomplete and usually missing the older manuals. Elphaba sighed and climbed the stairs to the sorcery section. She might find something.
The green girl stopped mid-step. Why hope when she could use a locator spell? It may not work; in fact, she was sure it would not but may as well give it a try anyway. Finding a desk with dust was not an issue; it was ever present. Elphaba did a quick chant and focused on the item she was looking for. The green witch knew it was too vague. Feeling the spell settle in she looked at the dust.
Floor 3, Aisle 13, Case 53, Shelf 3
Elphaba blinked. She had not hoped for something so specific. Quickly scribbling the instructions down, the green girl hurried off. In her haste, she missed the swirling of the dust into another message.
Elphaba hurried through the aisles, counting her way down. Finding the one she was looking for, she furtively looked at the numbers on the cases. The green girl blinked as she reached the end. This aisle only had forty-seven cases, not fifty-three. Glancing up, she saw faded numbers that stated it was aisle thirty-nine. Elphaba cursed (not for the first time) the lack of a systematic approach to the system. Somewhere in her mind she promised to figure out a better way.
Going back to the beginning, she tracked down the right aisle after two more failed starts. Hurrying down the aisle, she was aware the shelves were mostly bare. Her quarry was easy to spot; it was the lone book on the shelf. Elphaba picked it up gently, seeing the binding was loose. The title had faded off the cover all but for a few specks of paint and discoloration. Opening it, the first page held a crisp cursive.
The Bonds That Tie Us
A strange name, but Elphaba paid it no mind. Finding the table of contents, she quickly found the section she was looking for. Scanning quickly through the pages, Elphaba realized to break the spell placed over them would not be a simple matter of casting. A more rigorous process would be involved. Indeed, she would need to get supplies from the market.
Elphaba hurried down the stairs and to the librarian. The old woman eyed the book with some suspicion, but eventually signed it out for Elphaba's use. The green girl hurried out and down the steps. Knowing it would easier to have the porters hail a cab (as most refused to stop for her), the green girl made her way there. A short ride later she was at the post office and, after a moment paying for postage, walking into the market. Glancing at her pocket watch, she realized she had less than an hour to buy what she need and make it to her meeting. The green girl was so intent on her watch she failed to see the person she promptly ran into.
"Oof!" The person groaned in a very unladylike manner. Elphaba's head snapped up, angry retort ready. The sight of the girl calmed her tongue.
"Shenshen, what are you doing here?" Elphaba asked. Glancing around, she noticed the girl was alone, in a plain dress with her hair covered and carry what looked like a laundry bag.
"Getting run over by a quite insistent friend." Shenshen responded easily. Elphaba's cheeks darkened.
"I apologize. I was in a hurry to make a meeting."
"As am I. It is nice to see you, Miss Elphaba."
"You as well, Miss Shenshen." Elphaba replied, and meant it.
The brunette stared after the quickly retreating green girl's back. She was happy Elphaba had not inquired too much about her appearance or destination; then again, Shenshen doubted she would have cared. The girl put the encounter from her thoughts and hurried on her way. She had her weekly training session with Duran.
Hurrying to catch a cab to her destination, the Glikkus District, she was left off a bit of a ways away. To most it would seem like she was another lower class woman going to work in the bath and laundry houses. Instead, she slipped over to a building and used the keys he had given to open the door. Sliding the door behind her, she turned the lock.
Duran had converted a run down tavern house in the to an impromptu training hall. He had cleared the bottom floor where beer and wine had been served and replaced it with swords, mats, and targets. Shenshen knew this place well. A wall separated the stairs to the upper level, the bathroom, and a small kitchen. Shenshen checked there for Duran, but found no sight of him. Usually he met her at the door.
Placing down her things, she went to ascend the stairs. Duran had long ago told her she could explore the house at her leisure, but she had never the chance. At the top was a heavy wooden door that creaked as she opened it. A sitting room with a large table and a few comfy chairs came into view. Glancing around, she noted another open door that held many books. Smiling to herself at the thought of Elphaba, she made her way over.
Some of the books there were familiar to her; they were texts from his studies at Shiz. Some were not; treatise and texts on subjects not his studies. She recognized some fencing manuals and resisted the urge to pull them out. Next to them were other manuals, but in a strange language she could not read or recognize. The diagrams needed no translation as men held swords. Past the fencing treatise were more books in strange languages. Shenshen decided she had enough of the library, and moved out to go to another room. A glint caught her eye and she moved in that direction.
This room was obviously an armory. Swords of all styles sat in sheaths along the walls. There were the modern rapier, smallsword, and saber, but also curved swords that Shenshen discerned were for cavalry. Along with them were older swords from the days when it was the primary tool of war. Shenshen also noticed a breastplate in high polish, something cavalry officers still sometimes wore, and another suit of armor on a stand. After that were pistols and rifles of exquisite workmanship, some of kinds she had never seen. In particular one that seemed to be made fully of metal.
Something caused her to turn her head back to the swords displayed. A peculiar sword caught her attention. Outwardly nothing more than a relic of the time of cavaliers and spears, the well worn case attracted her attention. The sword seemed to call to her. She reached her hand out to pick it up from the stand it was on.
"I see you've found an interest in one of my collections?" Came Duran's voice from behind. Shenshen jumped.
"Oh! Yes. I can't explain it, but it just seems so unique."
"It is. This sword was once the property of a mighty knight." He answered.
"Really?"
"Yes. Would you like to hear the story?"
"Of course."
"In the age of steel and fire, warbands fought each other for supremacy. They like to call themselves nations, but in that time might ruled, not law. This knight was under a fierce ruler, a man so hard they called him The Hammer. He subjugated a portion of the world by strength of will and clashed with many ferocious enemies. After one such punitive raid to set his enemies on the back foot he was returning home. The knight and his retinue were trusted completely by the ruler and formed the rearguard. In a mountain valley they were beset by his lord's enemies in retribution for the raid. Outnumbered two to one, the knight and his retainers fought bravely and slew many. However, numbers carried the day. Knowing the knight had sent warning to his lord, the enemy disappeared before The Hammer could be brought to bear. His lord buried him with honors and gave the sword to his family."
"How did you get it?" Asked Shenshen. Duran smiled wanly.
"Families of war rarely last long; particularly successful ones. They are ground up in the endless cascade of conflicts that arise. His family was no different. They were broken over centuries of endless diligence to their lords. The last remaining member was nothing more than a serf-soldier to his lord. He died on a not too distant battlefield, and made my family promise to look after it in addition to his daughters."
"I did not know you were so well off." Shenshen said. Duran gave her a warm smile.
"Not so well off, but well enough. Now, I doubt you came here to chat with me so let's get to practice."
After practice session, Shenshen bathed and was once again treated to a massage by Duran. He left to launder her clothes as last time, but Shenshen did not get dressed. Instead, she wrapped the sheet around herself and made her way to the bedroom. Sparse and utilitarian, the bedroom held nothing more than the man's bed and a closet for clothes.
"Were you wishing to change in here?" Asked Duran from behind her. Shenshen turned.
"Eventually, perhaps." Shenshen replied. Duran raised an eyebrow. "Why, in all this time, have you not made any advances?"
"I've made quite a few, I think. Your timing hasn't been good enough to respond to them." He answered. Shenshen puzzled for a moment before shaking her head.
"Not funny. You know what I mean."
"I make it a rule to not fraternize with my students."
"So you have other female students?"
"A few. A colleague of mine, a Colonel named Monstery, believes all should learn self-defense. Hence he, and I, teach not only the sword but knife, stick, and bare handed fighting. He even has adapted bayonet fighting for women's use with a parasol."
"Quite handy indeed. I would like to learn that as well."
"Perhaps in another year or two, if we make it that far. Either way, I find fraternization to only cause problems. Students will either be distracted from their studies, or there will be questions of undue influence, or poor entanglements. In some cases, jealous husbands and minders; in other, jealous ladies. I find myself not to be a one woman type of man." He ended with a shrug
"Several very good reasons. Let me put them to rest. I will not become distracted by you, great as you are. Sex, while fun, is not more pleasurable than the art of the sword to me. Nor shall you unduly influence me more than perhaps you already have, and worry about entanglements or jealousy. I find myself not a one man, or woman, girl."
"Very good points." Duran nodded. Shenshen returned her smile with a devious one of her own, and dropped the sheet to reveal herself.
"So, shall we test your skill with a sword."
Duran laughed.
"A bit cliche."
"True," Shenshen laughed, "but I felt it appropriate."
"Well, then let the duel begin."
"Now who's cliche?"
Pfanne sat in her seminar class, waiting for it to start. It was the one class she did not have with Shenshen. The blonde was slightly annoyed as she knew she was off with Duran. Pfannee was not jealous, of course, but rather suspicious of the brunette's occupation with the man. She caught a boy looking at her and turned to him with a smile. He returned it.
"How are you, Master...?"
"Larsaun. And you must be Miss Pfanne."
"I am. It is a pleasure for me to be known to you."
"The story of the Founder's Ball has made its rounds."
Pfannee put on a wearied face.
"The young man was completely inappropriate. I had tried to warn him to save his dignity, but perhaps the wine had affected him too much."
"Perhaps he heard stories of you."
"Oh, and what stories would that be, Master Larsaun?"
"Stories about wild nights with certain gentlemen."
"I see the rumor mill is still unkind." Pfannee put hurt into her voice. "A young lady such as myself does not go unescorted by my Ama if there is not a chaperone present. When would I have such nights as these tales hold?"
"A good point. But one has to wonder?"
"Perhaps I was less soft in having rejected some young men's advances, but it is no reason to make up such lies."
"I can see a cultured lady such as yourself would never do the acts that are bandied about."
"Well, it is reassuring you can clearly see the truth of it. Only if others could."
"Quite true. I see our professor is about to start. Perhaps we could continue our conversation during intersession?"
"Of course." Pfannee smiled. As the teacher started speaking she reminded herself that the part of the thrill was the hunt.
Milla approached a gaggle of young men in the direction of where she heard Pfannee's voice. They normally walked back to Crage after class; Milla's was just across the hall in another auditorium. One boy was talking, and as he got to the end of his story Milla heard a peal of laughter that was definitely Pfannee's. She stopped at the edge and the blonde caught sight of her.
"Gentleman, it has been a great time but my dear friend Miss Milla is here to escort me back to Crage. I shall see you next class."
The men gave chorus of goodbyes as the girl linked arms and walked away. Milla glanced at them over her shoulder.
"And just who were they?"
"Unlike some, Milla, my prospects of late have dwindled. It was also made apparent recently that my reputation proceeds me. Therefore, I shall capture two deer with one net, and improve my prospects and reputation at the same time amongst the young men."
"And what does Shenshen think of this?"
"She won't care." Pfannee replied darkly as they crossed into the courtyard. "Besides, she's with Duran."
"Oh? They're courting?"
"No, but I know they are having some sort of relationship."
"And how can you tell?"
"I just can."
"That sounds an awful lot like jealousy, blondie bear." Came a teasing voice from behind. The two girls jumped and turned to see the aforementioned brunette standing there.
"Not jealous at all." Sniffed Pfannee. Shenshen gave a little laugh and leaned down to give her a quick kiss on the forehead.
"You're so adorable when you're flustered." She retorted.
"You should bathe. You stink of him." Pfannee wrinkled her nose.
"I do nothing of the sort. You know I bathe after every practice before I come back." The brunette replied, and linked her arm through Milla's. "Now, shall we? Dinner will be here soon."
"I'll give you something to eat." Mumbled Pfannee.
"What was that?" asked Shenshen sweetly.
"Nothing." replied Pfannee just as sweet. The girls then headed to their rooms to get ready for dinner.
Crope sipped his cider while he watched the people of the Emerald City go about their lives. He was in a little cafe not far from his flat. As per usual, he was waiting for Tibbett to meet him after work. Sometimes the boy's work kept him later. For Crope it was easier to get away from the books and numbers. He took another sip of his cider.
Crope was bored. After the hustle and bustle of life at Shiz and traipsing around Gillikin, his life now was nearly the same every day with little variation. He knew he should be happy with having firm employment and a good person to share it with. It did not stop him from missing the energy of Shiz. The Emerald City just was not the same, though filled with its own energy. To a native boy like him, the good city held little newness. He wished his friends were here to get into trouble with.
That thought brought up the letter he had in his pocket. Elphaba had remembered a conversation from a while before. It was a good thing she had as Crope had been too tipsy to remember it without prompting. When they were here she had taken him aside and told him what she wanted. He had sent a letter to her not a week ago, and had received a prompt response. His mind was detailing what it would entail when a voice cut into his thoughts.
"May I take a seat?" Asked a gentleman who walked up to him. Crope gave him a charming smile.
"I'm sorry, but I'm waiting for someone."
"I promise to make it worth your while." The man smiled back. Crope now gave him a firm once over. In well tailored if not common clothes, the man was in a white worn shirt with a high collar. His waistcoat and pants were of the same dark grey wool. He himself was tall, broad shouldered, lean waist, and with a strong jaw. His combed back dark hair had streaks of grey in it. Finally, he had striking grey eyes.
"I'm sorry, but you're not my type."
"You misunderstand." The man pulled some gold coins from his pocket and placed them on the table. "I promise to make it worth your while."
"I'm sorry, but I'm not that type, and am well taken." Crope's voice remained easy. The man laughed.
"Just a few minutes to talk. I have proposition for you."
"I already have a benefactor, if this is what that is about."
"I'm glad to hear it. I wouldn't dream of coming between you and them. However, perhaps some side work would not be adverse to you."
Crope examined the man for a moment, trying to puzzle out his intentions. Finally, he motioned to a seat. The man smiled.
"Thank you. I promise you won't be long." He said as he took a seat. "I'm to understand you have some familiarity with numbers."
"That I do. Quite a bit, in fact." Crope answered cautiously.
"And yet also the saber."
"Only a bit. I've studied for only a couple of years and much prefer the smallsword."
"I see. I may have gotten that confused but do know you show great promise."
"My question," Crope interjected, "is how you know that at all."
"A colleague of mine observed you and your...friend's demonstration at the Saint Glinda's Courtyard Performing Company workshop a little while ago."
"So you're a theater scout?"
"Not quite. Let's just say I'm in the business where business sense, acting, and fighting are useful skills to have."
"I've never been particularly civically minded."
"Perhaps I can change that."
As Tibbett trudged towards the cafe he grumbled at his long day. His supervisor had kept him past his shift, as per usual, to fill out the paperwork. Just because Tibbett was Shiz educated, and the man could not do it himself was no excuse. Tibbett's sense were still heightened so he noticed a man get up and leave Crope's table as he turned the corner.
"Who was that?" He asked as he got closer. Crope looked at him.
"A man who wanted me to work for him."
"You tell him no?" Tibbett asked as he took a seat.
"I told him I'd think about it. It's not a great option, but it has some upsides."
"Better than the job you have now?"
"Different." Crope replied. A waitress came to their table and both men placed an order.
"Doing what?" Tibbett asked after the waitress left.
"Investigative accounting."
"What's that?"
"Same thing I'm doing now, but the person that pays me isn't the same person I'm doing the accounting on. Essentially, they give me the info, and I'd tell them if it matches up."
"For the Constabulary?"
"No. A group independent of them."
"I see. How much would it pay?"
"A bit more than what I'm getting paid. The hours would be more variable, though."
"You wouldn't be out of work for any period of time, would you?"
"No, I'd be on retainer. They'd be paying me regardless if they have work or not."
"Sounds nice. What's the downside?"
"Nobody likes getting investigated."
"True. So, how soon would you start?"
"If I accept it would be a few months. They have to check out my background, put me through some tests; the usual. A few months minimum; six months more likely."
"So, are you going to accept?"
"Like I said, I have to think about it."
"Hmm." was Tibbett's response. He knew there was something more to it, but did not want to push and ruin dinner.
Later, at Crope's flat, the two boys cuddled close. As usual, Tibbett lay his head on Crope's lap while the other boy ran his fingers through his long hair. Tibbett looked up at his lover's far eyes and serious face.
"And what may be plaguing you, Divo?"
"Hm?" Crope replied. "Nothing."
"Such a stern brow does not tell me nothing."
Crope smiled.
"I was thinking about this." He answered, and took a letter from his pocket. Tibbett unfolded it and quickly scanned the writing. His eyebrows rose to his hairline.
"My my. I would love to sit in."
"Unfortunately no, Prima Uomo; she allowed only myself."
"Unfair. I think it will be quite a masterpiece." Tibbett pouted. The other boy bent low to place a kiss on the crinkled forehead.
"I will show you some of the preliminary work, however."
"I'd love that." The other boy brightened up. Crope laughed and nudged his boyfriend off of him to go get what he promised. Tibbett watched him go, but felt there was still something he was not telling him. He shrugged, figuring it would come in its own time.
Avaric finished signing off on some paperwork, and handed it to the steward. Glancing out the floor to ceiling window, he noticed the sun setting. He looked up at the man.
"That should be enough for today, Armand. Go home and see your wife and kids." Avaric said.
"If I must, Margreave." The man replied. Avaric gave him small smile.
"Consider it an order." Avaric continued the timeless tradition.
The man bowed and walked out. Avaric's brows came together in concentration for a moment before he leaned back to stretch. With a yawn, he stood up and walked over to the oak cabinet that kept his decanters. Pouring himself a dark bourbon, he took a sip as he walked out of the office.
The house, though always almost empty, seemed like a mausoleum now. The dead air hung over him in a way that it never seemed to when his father was alive. Now in Avaric's sole possession he did not enjoy the feeling. Avaric exhaled wearily again and took a seat in a side room.
The old bastard had up and died on some business trip. It had been kept quiet, but his father's personal retainer Armand told him it was during intercourse with a viscount's wife. The result was an angry viscount threatening to file suit with the shire reeve. Avaric had taken care of it with an offer of recompense and a threat of repercussion if he did not. That had sufficed. Avaric was still taking care of his father's unfinished business. Some had thought the so would be a more malleable business partner. Avaric had quickly squashed that, leaving some grumbling that the departed Margreave was softer.
Avaric wondered how to fill this house. In it's current state, it was much too large for his needs. Perhaps if he asked his small circle of friends to stay there? As soon as the idea came he dismissed it. The girls could not out of propriety. Fiyero would not out of pride, and Boq would feel too awkward in the large house. Avaric pursed his lips. Perhaps it was time to seriously start courting. A woman could liven up the house.
Avaric glanced at the clock. It was too late for him to call upon the person he would need to see. However, he could send a letter. Rising from the comfortable chair he downed the last bit of his drink and made his way back to the office. Finding his pen and paper, his crafted handwriting scribbled out the first formal words.
Dear Miss Glinda,
I am in need of your services for something particularly suited to you.
Fiyero roamed the streets of Shiz alone. He pretended not to notice the curious and harsher looks that some of the people passing gave him. His feet took him in a familiar path outside a small cafe. As he neared, he slipped into a more unassuming walk, moving from place to place to minimize his being noticed. He even tucked his distinct braids under his hat and raised his collar.
As it was a nice day he knew people would be outside in the few seats situated outside. That meant a possibility of her being outside as well.
As Fiyero slunk by he noticed the tables full. Business was still going well, then. Movement at the door caught his eye, and the young Prince ducked into the shadow of a nearby building. The tall figure emerging holding a tray made no sign of seeing him. Fiyero let his eyes roam as the tray was placed and the figure went back inside. Finally, the Vinkun let out a breath he was holding and went on his way.
When he thought he was far enough away he let out a dry chuckle. If only his friends could see him now. Avaric would try to get him drunk and laid, Boq would make cow eyes at him, and the pair in the Emerald City would at once jibe and console him.
Well it's your own fault; no use sulking over it. Came the well known acerbic tone of the green girl in his mind.
It will go with time. Came the honeyed voice of her constant companion.
Fiyero felt a twinge of jealousy at the two. They were very happy together, and a stunning match. Fiyero could hope that his future bride would grow to be a good friend, but thought he might not ever find what the pair had. He sighed again and made his way back towards the dorm.
"You know Avaric, I don't know how to feel about being called to you. It's a bit strange." said Boq as he entered the other boy's office. The man got up from behind the desk and shook Boq's hand.
"Yes, well, the unfortunates of adulthood. Take a seat?"
"What's going on?" asked Boq as he took the proffered chair. Avaric sat on the desk and grabbed a letter sitting on it.
"News from Munchkinland." he replied and tossed it at the smaller boy. Boq took the hefty letter and opened it. Scanning the contents, he looked over attached documents.
"These are deeds to…"
"Indeed they are." Avaric smiled at the pun. "Your hundred acres, as promised. Also included in the first month of the yearly stipend as promised."
Boq stared at the pieces of paper; paper which had him more wealthy than most of Munchkinland.
"That was sooner than I expected."
"Peerless and my brokers are still trying to piece together some land for the estate, but the hundred was easy enough to find. So I figured, why wait?"
"And the stipend for work I have yet to do?"
"They'll be plenty use for it soon enough." Avaric answered. "I figured if you are to be my manager than I need you to get out and make contacts."
"So I'm to be in the Vismargreave's retinue now?" Boq inquired with a hint of disdain.
"Margreave." Avaric corrected. Boq stared for a second before comprehension dawned on him.
"Avaric, I'm sorry." Boq's voice softened. Avaric waved his hand.
"You know as well as I do there was no love lost between me and the old man. I just wish he had waited a bit longer so I could have a few more things in order. Nothing to be done about it now, however." Avaric smiled. "And I thought if we are to convince the Louvreans that you are a suitable match for Milla we need to class you up a bit."
Boq groaned. Avaric's smile grew wider.
"Well, then, my dear man, we have much work to do. Let's get started."
This chapter covers the 8th through 21st of Newfall.