Nadir (Exodus II)

Imoen had forgotten the way they could all put forth their opinions and argue points without ever actually reaching an agreement or a decision. It had hampered them on the surface and if they didn’t overcome it now it might end up costing them their lives.

“Is there some other place we can go before we contact Ballanger?”

Shaking her head, Imoen hefted her pack further up her shoulder.

“We can go to the university house. There won’t be anyone there now. The student research group will be another few months yet. We can stay there long enough to resupply, find Lunan and Milandro and contact this Ballanger man.”

She looked round at their motley group for a few moments. “Four of us are scientists so that’s easy enough: we’ll be fellows of the university conducting some post-graduate research. The others ... well, we’ll have to think about that.”

"Assistants, maybe?" Aeve asked diffidently, "I know that's not entirely usual but it's still plausible enough that it might work.

Her fingers kept drifting toward the pocket where she kept her cigarettes but she refused to light one until she felt safer.

"Assistants, maybe?" Aeve asked diffidently, "I know that's not entirely usual but it's still plausible enough that it might work."

"That could work," agreed Ares. "As long as Imoen and the other scientists do most of the talking, the rest of us could pass for assistants and/or relatives. By the way..." Turning the Imoen he noticed she seemed annoyed and was shaking her head a bit. Not suprising considering the way they all managed to argue a lot. "What is this building like?"

Imoen cast her mind back to when she had been doing her student research project at the university; it had only been a couple of years ago, but with everything that had happened since it seemed like another lifetime, some insubstantial memory that may never have actually happened.

“Ah ... it’s a simple house. A living room, kitchen and dining area, four bedrooms, two bathrooms. It’s owned by the university, and students and graduates are allowed to stay for minimal rent to do research and field work. There are farms close by, and caverns with a lot of petrified tree-roots like the one here,” she indicated the giant, twisting trunk that could be seen throughout the city.

“Geology and botany students and graduates often come here for research on thesis’ or to get some field experience. The house is just a place for them to stay, at the edge of the city.”

"Damn..." Ares pushed his hair back and looked up at the cave cieling. "I was hoping it would be smaller. Does this place at least a basement?"

This could, and likely will, end badly. He knew the agents would attack soon after Ares and the others got away from the public eye. Or they might wait until nightfall to attack. Either way, defending that place was going to be a nightmare. However, defending a basement with just one way in or out would make things slightly easier.

With effort Imoen managed to suppress an irritated sigh; though she was sure Ares was only trying to think on what was best for the group, she couldn’t help but feel that this habit of finding problems and faults with every suggestion was what led them to this never ending circle of arguing and not reaching any decisions.

Nothing about this situation was ideal. They had to make do with what little resources they had, and right now the university house appeared to be their only option.

“No, no basement. Why?” she started to ask, then held up a hand. “Never mind. Let’s just go there and you can see it yourself.”

Always there was some problem or another. Ares had suggested Ballenger but didn't consider that nobody else among them knew the man, and that he was equally likely to sell them out as help them. At least as far as any of them truly knew. They were going to take risks no matter what happened. They were a mingled group of Ingolians and Farakzans traveling through Argall for god's sake. And the assassin that could strike only from physical darkness was a poor assassin indeed. They weren't safe no matter where they went.

“No, no basement. Why?” she started to ask, then held up a hand. “Never mind. Let’s just go there and you can see it yourself.”

"I agree," Derek said. "Let's get going. I think unlike our previous disguises, this is one thing we can certainly pull off." As he spoke, he shifted his voice a little to mimic a Farakzan accent. Grinning, he traded a quick glance with Alexia before they continued on.

“I hope you’re right,” Imoen murmured as they moved off.

It took her a few minutes to get her bearings as they wound their way through the streets. It had been a long time since she had been in Carcalla, and she had spent most of her time in the field or in the city centre rather than on the outskirts as they were now. But she could at least be sure of the direction they were headed in and the further towards the south of the city they got the more familiar the streets and alleys became until she was leading them with confidence to an out of the way cul-de-sac.

The university house was at the end of the street, and, as Imoen remembered and had described, it was an average, nondescript building. Gentle shinestone light flickered within the windows of other houses in the street, but the university house was quiet and dark.

Imoen led the others round the side of the house. She trailed her fingers along the rough stone of the wall as she went, counting under her breath. Then abruptly she stopped, and, curling her fingers around the edge of the stone she had paused on, pulled it free from the wall. Sliding her hand into the small space created, she felt around for a moment the drew out a silver key. A low sigh of relief escaped her as she fitted the stone back in.

“This way,” she whispered. They made their way around to the back of house, where Imoen unlocked the back door and cautiously opened it. The interior of the house was just as shadowy and empty as the outside, the furniture covered with white dust sheets.

Imoen stepped inside and turned to the others. “It’s empty. Come on.”

"Nice place you got here."

Abraham looked around, daring not to sit down on the furniture. He had no idea how the others had thought this would go, but he himself realised he at least had not thought this trough. So here he was, in enemy territory, traveling with traitors to meet a man who might already be dead.

And now they were in a freaking university of sorts. Wonderful.

"I need a change of clothing." He didn't feel like ransacking the entire building, and Imoen seemed to know the building. "Any idea where to look?"

Imoen looked around from where she had been rummaging through one of the cupboards for spare shinestones; they couldn’t live in the dark and if they kept the curtains tightly drawn the light shouldn’t show through outside.

She couldn’t quite shake the sick feeling at the base of stomach though. This had been her idea and if it went wrong it would be on her. She prayed to any god willing to listen that she had made the right decision bringing them here – it would only be temporary until they could find a better place to hide or came up with a plan. She still had her information to impart and that might change all their minds about what they would do next.

“Uh,” she said in reply to Hammer, “The bedrooms are upstairs. You could check the drawers and wardrobes in case anything’s been left behind.”

Reaching up to run a hand through her hair, she thought for a moment. “If there’s nothing one of us,” she indicated herself, Alexia and Ares, “Could visit a shop tomorrow.”

Assuming they were still here tomorrow.

Aeve paced aimlessly, ostensibly helping Imoen in her search for shinestones. The way her mind strayed to Lunan often before ping-ponging off of other disturbing thoughts made Aeve an ineffective searcher, wandering around and staring blankly while forgetting what she was supposed to be doing.

The others hadn't made much of the intemperate comment she'd made earlier and she wished she could forget it. Yet it seemed to follow her around like a nagging relative, leaving her doubting the people she needed the most.

Finally she gave up the appearance of searching and fished out one of her dwindling supply of clove cigs. She planted it between her lips and lit it, taking a grateful drag.

When Hammer mentioned changing clothes she cast a thoughtful eye over him. Anything left here would be unlikely to fit. They would have a hard enough time finding him something in the right size even if someone managed to go down to the shops.

The thought of leaving the comparative safety of the house worried her and she turned away, blowing out a fragrant plume of clove-scented smoke, her arms crossed defensively.

Different clothes might not go amiss. Derek thought as he took a quick look around the house. Not huge, but a decent enough safehouse for the time being. He unshouldered his bow and quiver as he peeked into the various bedrooms, closets, and nooks, paying special attention to the locations of back doors and windows. And at length he walked back into the living room, to be met by Aeve and the scent of burning clove. He nodded to her and then walked to the far wall, leaning his weaponry against it. He then flopped on the couch.

"Well. It'll be nice to have a night sleeping on some form of furniture at least." Derek commented. "If we last the night without having to run for our lives."

“Aye, aye.” He had slept in his own bunk last night, so really, he could go on for another day or three, but he felt for the rest of them. Walking towards the stairs, he raised a hand. “You know where I’ll be.”

Bedrooms; they’d like that. Archer boy and medic girl would appreciate that. Hammer let out a deep sigh and unhooked the battle hammer. Placing the weapon against the bed, he turned to the closet and pulled it open, only to close it again. Suits of different types, a few dresses. Nothing fancy, which was for the better he supposed.

And, of course, nothing seemed to be his size. Cursing under his breath, he went through the items one by one, taking out those pieces of clothing that might fit him. He ended up with two pair of trousers, four shirts and a long white overcoat.

“I did not think this through.” Cursing some more, for the heck of it, he started to undress.

“So this is Carcalla.”

They had emerged from the tunnels in a small cave at the top of a steep, rocky slope that led down towards the city. Stood at the edge they had a panoramic vista of the grey, petrified roots and the clusters of shinestones that hung from stalactites like crystal beehives, casting a gentle light through the darkness. Lunan was reminded of the first time he had set eyes on the surface, from high up on a mountainside; though it wasn’t the pure, mesmerising magnificence of nature, the underground had its own, strange beauty that was just as hypnotic.

“Yep. C’mon, let’s move.” Milandro barely paused, starting down the incline towards the city with a soldier’s dogged discipline.

“Right,” Lunan nodded, but followed more slowly.

It was rough, treacherous going down the slope and for a while they were silent, concentrating on each cautious step of their feet. The rocks were loose here and one wrong footing could send them both tumbling to their graves. Once the ground began levelling out again, though, Milandro paused and looked round at the younger man.

“Once we get to the city, how’re we finding the others again?”

“I have no idea,” Lunan shrugged, “I think we’re relying on luck for that.”

It was worry that had been nagging him since Aspeth. How exactly were they to find the others? They only knew they were in Ardgall. They assumed they would head for Carcalla. But it was a large city, with numerous hiding places and they would have the eyes of both the Farakzan and Ingolian authorities watching them. Short of divine intervention they were relying on pure, unadulterated luck to see them through this.

But it had to work out. It had to. Because he had to get back to Aeve.

Milandro, who had also pondering this in silence, suddenly shook his head. “We didn’t think this through, did we?”

“Nope.” Lunan brushed past him on the path. “But I promise, next time I run into Smythe I’ll ask him to give us time to come up with a contingency plan before he sends his soldiers in to kill us.”