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Message: <blockquote data-quote="ellinor" data-source="post: 5559127" data-attributes="member: 14561">21x01Lord Ono rushed past Twiggy, disturbing the acrid, fetid air on his way down the stairs into the dungeon, now strewn with the bodies of the black-clad intruders.  Tidesmen, surely.  Beyond that, they knew nothing:  Who were the attackers?  Whom did they report to?  How did they know to break into the Inquisition?  What did they know?  How did they get in?“This is not good,” Lord Ono was muttering, “not good at all.”  Twiggy couldn’t agree more.  Or—well—it could be worse.  They had prevented any of the intruders from carrying word of Kawazu’s incarceration and confession back to the Mother Superior.  And now there were several fewer Tidesmen in the world.  So…maybe a little bit good.  Has my study of Go made me stony, unfeeling?  Twiggy immediately rebuked herself for thinking that any number of dead people was in any way good.But . . . it is good, interjected Acorn.That doesn’t mean I’m supposed to think it is, Twiggy retorted.Sometimes you don’t make any sense, Chelesta, sighed Acorn, and burrowed deeper into the folds of Twiggy’s robe.Lord Ono was pacing, examining the bodies, hunching over and then standing again, muttering to himself.  “ . . . might be familiar, but no . . . all black . . . nondescript weapons . . . nothing to go on . . . who let them in here . . . how many . . . would try Speak with Dead, but that would mean using Yudai . . .”“Excuse me,” piped up Savina, “but who or what is a Yudai?”“Yudai-san is a Prime Inquisitor, and the only Inquisitor I would trust to cast Speak with Dead on any of these perpetrators.  That’s the only way we’ll get any real answers.  But Yudai-san led the original Inquest into the Hillside District heresy, and I am still not certain whether . . . where his sympathies lie.”Savina shivered a bit.  “Speak with Dead.  It sounds . . . gross.  But I know of Sisters who can do it, and I might be able to learn.”Lord Ono perked up.  “Truly?  And you would be willing to try?  That would be a relief . . . or at least it couldn’t hurt . . .” he returned to his reverie and his pacing.  “Disposing of bodies.  What to do, what to do.”“Naturally, once young Savina has questioned them, you will throw them into your rat pit,” Kormick responded.Lord Ono paced, lost in thought.“You . . . do have a rat pit, don’t you?”  Kormick added.“Or maybe,” Twiggy found herself suggesting, “we should display their bodies publicly, to demonstrate how unwise it is to break into the Inquisition?  We wouldn’t need to say anything about what they  . . . did or didn’t find when they broke in.”“Why, Lady Chelesta, I didn’t know you had it in you,” Kormick said, with a mock bow.  Twiggy pictured the dead Tidesmen as little black stones scattered among the white stones of their Inquest, and heard Ahiko-san’s voice in her mind.  One must play moves that heighten the value of all previous moves.###WEEK FIVE | MONDAYNyoko sat crosslegged on the hard floor and watched the dance of Sedellus.  Dancers’ heads turned at precise angles; their fingers flicked in an intricate pattern like butterflies set to music.  The director, a lithe, taut man in his late 40s named Iwai, clapped in rhythm, stamping to emphasize the heaviest beats.  Nyoko had watched the dance at over a dozen Ehkt’s Judgment festivals, and yet now, up close, it seemed almost impossibly complicated.  Almost impossibly complicated, Nyoko reminded herself.Iwai stopped clapping and scowled slightly at the dancers leaving the stage before turning to Nyoko and the beefy young Adept, Shun, who would be dancing the role of Ehkt this year.  “You see?”  he asked.  “Just like that.  But cleaner,” he added, with a tiny frown at the woman who had just performed the part Nyoko was to learn.  Nyoko recognized the woman—her name was Unsuku.  She was three years older than Nyoko, and she had selected dance as her specialty when she was much younger.  She had danced the role of Sedellus in the previous year’s festival.  “You must dance with perfection,” Iwai informed Nyoko, with a clap.  “Perfection.  You must lead the amateurs in the roles of Alirria and Rikitaru, and must also dance your own role.  No room for error,” he barked, clapping again for emphasis.  “Alirria’s role is easy,” he continued, “and thus easy to lead.  Mostly she lays about on a divan.  But Rikitaru’s role must be led precisely, and you—” he motioned at Nyoko, “are very green.  Let us begin.”  He signaled for Nyoko to stand beside him.  As Nyoko mimicked Iwai’s slow-motion movements, Unsuku swept out of the studio with a subtle, but unmistakable, jealous glare.  It slowly dawned on Nyoko that perhaps the sloppiness in Unsuku’s example had not been due to carelessness.  It had, instead, been an intentionally flawed example.  She’s not going to make it easy for me, Nyoko thought. ###TUESDAYKormick stood near the open door of the dance studio, watching Nyoko perform the same leap over and over.  He could not tell the difference between the leaps, but he knew that there must be some obscure Sovereign significance to the angle of the head, the curve of the toe . . . Nyoko, breathing heavily, came to the door.  “I would love to join you for a noon meal, Kormick-san, but Iwai-sensai insists that we complete this stanza.”  She bent at the waist and leaned on her knees, her breath beginning to return.  “He’s right.  We have a long way to go, and this is a hard part.”“Which are the hard parts?”  Kormick asked.“All of them,” Nyoko sighed back.  “But you came here for a reason.  What do you need?”  Nyoko signaled to the dance teacher that she’d be taking a short break, and she and Kormick retreated to a quieter corner. Kormick leaned in.  “I’ve been asking around a bit about finding prostitutes—investigating how one might gain access to one of those Indulgence parties—and all paths lead back to the Adepts.  With many favorable reviews, by the way.  I gather that some of the Adepts of this city specialize in erotic entertainment, and that a few of those are willing to work outside the confines of this compound here, although it’s not exactly Adept policy.”Nyoko nodded.  “Your information is accurate.”Kormick crossed his arms.  “So how is it, exactly, that I have been in this city for over a month, and no one got around to telling me that I’m living just blocks away from one of the places with the best sex-for-hire in the Halmae?”“I assumed you knew.”Kormick left the dance studio with a list of names in his notebook, a veritable catalog of Soveriegn propositioning etiquette in his head, and a smile on his face.###WEDNESDAYArden gave a furtive glance to the left and right and slipped her hand, softly, under the flap of Kormick’s cloak, drawing out a small leather pouch and pocketing it under her tunic.  She glanced again.  Did anyone see?  There weren’t many patrons at the Inn of Agreeable Company, but it wasn’t the patrons she was worried about.  It was the barman—a known Tidesman—who concerned her.  He might have seen.Kormick finished his drink and called the barman to the table to settle the bill.  He felt around in his pockets, and then felt around again.  “That’s my gold, missing.”  He pulled another pouch from another pocket with a conspicuous grumble.  “That had better not be you, slave.  You don’t want me talking to the authorities about you, do you?  …Or the Blessed Daughter?”Arden gave a sullenly defiant shrug.  “I didn't do anything.  You don't have anything to tell her.”  “Don't I?”Arden modulated her voice, adding a touch of fear to the defiance.  “Come on, Justicar.  Please not her.” The barkeep smiled.Outside, Arden tossed the pouch back to Kormick and he clapped her on the back.  “We make a good team,” he said.  “I think he took the bait.”Arden's back was still sore, but she didn't care—Kormick's gesture made her smile.  Their artifice was working.  She was gradually gaining the positive attention of known Tidesmen.  But—on a team with a Justicar.  Stealing from a Justicar.  Wanting to get caught.  She was living it, and it still barely made sense.###THURSDAY“And the finals of last year’s Ehkt’s Judgment Trials were played on this very board?”  Twiggy mused.  She was staring at the white and black pebbles before her, barely conscious of the Adept sitting across the board.  This was their second match; the first had been a slim victory for Twiggy that seemed far too much more like luck than skill.  Now, the board was beginning to fill up, and too few of those few open spaces were good options for Twiggy.“Yes. We Adepts study the details of that match to improve our skills.  Lady Mochizuki’s understanding of thickness, her positional judgment, her balance between overconcentration and vagueness—are truly harmonic.”Twiggy marveled that a few weeks ago she had thought those words meant entirely different things.  Now she not only knew what each of them meant to Go players, but also why they were important.  She also knew that, although she could reliably prevail in most matches at many of the city’s Go parlors, her own skills were . . . less than harmonic.  Twiggy read the board before her, playing the next few moves in her head.  If her opponent played predictably, the match would be decided in seven, and not in Twiggy’s favor.“I concede,” Twiggy sighed.  “Would you mind running through those moves from last year?”###FRIDAYTavi stood on a five-foot-square platform raised a foot off the floor, opposite his opponent—a middle-aged Keeper of the Flame wearing loose-fitting pants and no shirt.  Tavi concentrated and cast a spell that would push his opponent backward, but he couldn’t hold it.  His feet were slipping back, as if the platform were covered in oil.  Tavi stumbled, but recovered his footing.  With a flick of the wrist, he cast, and flame burst from his arms, licking at his wrists like gauntlets.  He lunged forward.“Whoa!”  His opponent yelped, as he jumped back to avoid the flames.  “No contact!  Remember, this is arcane wrestling.”The pair hopped off the platform.  It was such a relief to spar again—a welcome break from the political intrigue—and he quite enjoyed this “arcane wrestling.”Tavi’s sparring partner returned and handed Tavi a cup of water.  “No contact, but you should do that flame gauntlet thing at the Trials.  Lots of guys have distinctive costumes, and flaming wrists would sure make a statement.  You . . . will be arcane wrestling at the Trials, won’t you?”Tavi chuckled.  If ever there were a sport made for him, it was arcane wrestling.  In fact, as he looked around the room, he observed that the Trials fit his family perfectly.  Rose was over by the wall, standing on a narrow ledge as practice for the endurance events; Mena was in the corner, discussing the history of Sovereign physical wrestling with another Keeper as they rested between practice bouts; Twiggy was back at the Adept House, immersing herself in Go.“Yes—I think I’ll be competing in the arcane wrestling Trial,” he smiled.SATURDAYSavina peeked over the edge of the scroll.  The body of the leader of the Tide attackers lay at her feet, on a slab of white stone.  The room, in a dark corner of the house of the Inquisition, was dark, stone-walled, with no windows.  Savina’s throat felt tight against the close air.  Over the past several days, she had planned for this: she’d read the scroll over and over; learned the proper inflections and procedures; formulated the three questions that she would ask if the ritual worked.  When she read the ritual words, she would make the body speak.  “Like healing,” Tavi had said, but Savina knew he didn’t mean it.  The ritual would make the body speak, but could not make it live.  This was nothing like healing. Savina squeezed Rose’s hand for support, and began to chant.  Her voice echoed strangely.  She was accustomed to singing outdoors, at dawn.  But she said the words . . . and nothing happened.  It was still just a dead body on the floor.  How would she know it worked?  “Go ahead, ask the questions,” said Tavi.Savina took a deep breath.  “Who let you in to the House of the Inquisition?”The body’s mouth moved, but it spoke without affect or inflection, its face without expression.  “A door was left open.  I do not know who opened it.”“Whom were you to report to, when your mission was done?”  Savina asked.“Lord Bunjuru.”  A name Savina had never heard before.“Identify all of the members of the Tide that you are aware of.”The body began reciting names; Kormick wrote them down.  Savina did not even hear them as she backed away, leaned against a wall, and listened to the blood rushing in her ears.</blockquote>

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