Chapter 6 (Continued)

[Ianaeveli Tigenet]

As Iana reaches the top of this flight of stairs, she realizes she hasn't heard anything in front of her for a few moments. No sounds of running, no cries of annoyance as someone blunders through a research session, none of the sort of thing one might expect from a chase through a generally pretty quiet library.

And that's a concern.

She moves forward a little more carefully, keeping an eye out for any signs of an ambush but still wanting to move as quickly as possible. The creak is the first sign that something's wrong, and then the ensuing groan of the shelving unit next to her gives it away. It starts leaning precariously and, before she can quite process what's going on, it's falling toward her.

The creaking groans of the bookshelf trigger something deep in Iana's mind - the sound _means_ something, but she cannot think what -

- until the swaying catches the corner of her eye, the heavy bookshelf tilting towards her, closer, closer, closer…

"Iana!" comes a deep cry, and suddenly, Ishan Veriti puts himself between Iana and the tumbling shelf. Books and boxes and files spill out as the shelf hits the big man squarely in the back, several of them clattering on his head before falling to the floor. He stumbles forward, reaching out to make sure Iana isn't in the path of danger before falling to one knee with the shelf resting against his back.

With a sharp cry, Iana jumps back - just in time for Ishan to duck in. As books tumble to the floor in a chaotic cascade of thumps and swishing pages, she stays motionless in the aisle, both hands pressed up to her face and crystal-green eyes wide with terror.

"Ow," he rumbles, laughing shakily. He doesn't seem to be severely hurt, but he is trapped for the moment beneath the shelf. It doesn't look terribly heavy -- maybe between the two of them they can lift it again? "Are you hurt?"

"No, I - I'm fine," she gasps, still breathless from her dash up the stairs even before the burst of shock and adrenaline that came from nearly being crushed by the heavy bookshelf. "Are you all right? What are you doing up here?"

Iana stares at Ishan, desperately trying to spur her mind back into motion. Ishan can't be the person she's been pursuing, can he? Or does she just not want it to be him?

She was right when she didn't want it to be Sayesti, and wrong when she did want it to be Katen, so where does that leave her?

It leaves her with looking for proof, she tells herself yet again. It isn't about wanting; it's about evidence.

If Ishan is the culprit, why would he have pushed the shelf over and then saved her from it? Not to mention, immobilizing himself to save her. It wouldn't make any sense. He's light enough on his feet that she wouldn't have heard him coming - so could she have heard his footsteps running away a moment before?

Does she hear any footsteps running away now? She doesn't think so - but then again, it's hard to hear anything over the pounding of her heart right now.

[AftermathGM]

"No, I - I'm fine," she gasps, still breathless from her dash up the stairs even before the burst of shock and adrenaline that came from nearly being crushed by the heavy bookshelf. "Are you all right? What are you doing up here?"

"Saving you from falling bookshelves, apparently!" he grunts. "Help me push this thing back up?"

Together, they lift the shelf back up. Ishan puts his hands out as though it might decide to leap at them again. He watches it carefully for a few seconds, then turns toward Iana (though he does glance at the shelf every now and again). He rubs at his shoulder, which took the brunt of the blow, and winces. "I'm looking for a treatise for Eamai Nerune. She's your advisor, isn't she?" He shrugs his broad shoulders. "In any case, she came looking for you first. I told her you were in the library and I'd be happy to come look for the book she wanted."

Which... is strange. Ishan has to be plenty busy with his own work, doesn't he? Eamai studies how intelligence operatives use magic in their work, while Ishan's always been on the analytical end of things, making connections among large sets of data and so on. He's a numbers man.

Did he come looking for her?

His mention of Eamai brings her to mind. Her quiet, thoughtful voice. Her incisive mind. She has a well of wisdom that Iana has never felt intimidated by; she doesn't wield it like a weapon, she has a way of expressing her thoughts that makes a person stop and consider. As far as Iana knows, Honored Nerune has never been a field agent, but Iana's often thought that if she was, she could get stones to stand up and walk away after considering the excellent options over there.

Iana can make a flower bloom or diagnose a sick plant, but doesn't have a lot of magical ability to use in her own work. Still, Eamai always encouraged her to think about how others could potentially influence a situation with their own abilities, that someone without power in this arena was often the best analyst of those who had it.

A quote comes to mind as she thinks about that. They'd been going over some of Iana's early writings in her Scholar studies and Eamai pointed out a particular passage where Iana had discounted the influence of magic in a job gone wrong. "Remember that magic is often misdirection. A clever practitioner will have you looking one way while they're doing something somewhere else. Just because you don't see it, doesn't mean it's not there. You might simply be looking in the wrong place."

Iana looks again at the situation. The shelf wouldn't fall on its own. They're too bottom-heavy. It had to have help. But there's no one on the other side of the shelf, and she didn't see or hear anyone running away... the most likely answer then is that someone used magic to pull it over. She doesn't know anything about Ishan's own talents; it's never something that's come up between them.

But as she studies his rueful expression, she notices something.

He's wearing a single earring.

The mate to the one she found.

[Ianaeveli Tigenet]

He's wearing a single earring.

The mate to the one she found.

The earring.

The one Iana had hoped to see missing from Katen's ensemble; and the one she feared she would see missing from Ishan's.

He was saving her - but only to ask for her help, luring her to get under the bookshelf. At which point, she is nearly certain, he would leave her alone, with the burden that she could never hold up on her own.

Or, perhaps, even to push another shelf onto her with his magic.

"No." Iana's voice comes out quiet at first, under a different burden: the weight of trust and friendship betrayed. And then, more strongly, "No, she didn't. Honored Nerune didn't come looking for me, and she didn't ask you to look for me, either."

She steps back, her nearly-steady hand reaching into her pocket to pull out the matching earring, thrusting it forth to show Ishan. "You were up here to follow me and Garnyn. You dropped this when you attacked him." Her voice gathers strength with each word - no louder than before, but sharp with the force of her angry hurt. "You meant the dart for me. But instead you hit a person that you just met, someone that you laughed with, someone who is entirely innocent in this - who just happened to be standing next to me." The guilt that still pierces Iana for Garnyn's injuries twists her voice now, as she narrows her eyes into a furious glare.

If Iana keeps focusing on how angry she is that Garnyn was harmed, maybe she doesn't have to think about how much it hurts that Ishan wanted to harm her.

"Not that that's any better than attacking me. Were we ever really friends, Ishan?"

[Asralynn Beauchaud]

Another flash of Adaye's usual acerbic charm shines through. "Under the circumstances, Scholar," she says dryly, "I wouldn't want you to end up like me either. Which is why I'm going to remind you -- because I know you -- to be very careful. I would instruct you to speak to Khadin Tez, my secretary, about access to my notes except I have a strong suspicion that he works more for Tullen than for me. I am guessing, since Tullen was willing to give you access to my workroom, that he has scrubbed it of all the most useful notes, or at least those most dangerous to him. I did not think I needed to keep my findings secret or I would have ferreted some of them away. As it is..." she trails off, spreading her hands out. "See what you can learn. Come back. I may be able to fill in any blanks you find."

Risine adds, "Keep me in the loop as well. I have essentially no knowledge of the mysterious workings of magical devices. My own magical talents run no farther than being able to remove a tea stain from my skirt. But I do know a lot of people and I collect information like a Veridium collects bugs."

Asra nods resolutely. She was glad to see Adaye in better spirits, though she couldn't shake the feeling she had when she first say her Master in this cell.

"Understood. And given the likelihood that I'll find little of use in your written-notes, I guess I'll be forced to come back here a few times to make sure I have everything straight," she tells her. It almost sounds like an annoyed threat, but she can't help the softness of her voice as it comes out as a veiled reassurance that she'd visit again, to make sure she was okay.

"I'll come find you if I need anything," she directs towards Risine. "Until then, I wish you the best, and hope that the legal system can do some justice for my Master."

She leaves them behind in the cell, and cautiously applies and reapplies her disguise as she approaches the door until she is certain she is past whatever anti-magic field fills the area before strutting out. She hardly acknowledges the guard, merely waving him off as she mutters "Useless," in her grumpy, machinist voice.

She has a few tasks ahead of her... but maybe she should try to check in with the others before doing them...

[AftermathGM]

"If you're going in, then we'll have to be careful about meeting," he says. By now, it's a fair assumption that Rothenend and Iene both will be aware Georg is acting against them, giving the number of pies he's been sticking his fingers into and his unmistakeability. "I've told Swordmaster Drexel some of what I've told you already," he admits. "She was one of the ones pushed here from another page and she was present when I dealt with the uemerai. Maybe we can pass information through her?"

"Exactly what I was thinking," Antior nods in approval. "I believe we both trust the Swordmaster implicitly, and we both have reason to continue meeting with her outside of this particular enterprise. It should not occasion any additional suspicion beyond what we both have managed to occasion on our own."

Antior claps his hands together. "This has turned out to be an even more fruitful meeting than I had anticipated, despite the seriousness of what we have discussed. Or perhaps because of the seriousness. Is there anything else you believe I should know before we enact our plan?"

[AftermathGM]

"No." Iana's voice comes out quiet at first, under a different burden: the weight of trust and friendship betrayed. And then, more strongly, "No, she didn't. Honored Nerune didn't come looking for me, and she didn't ask you to look for me, either."

She steps back, her nearly-steady hand reaching into her pocket to pull out the matching earring, thrusting it forth to show Ishan. "You were up here to follow me and Garnyn. You dropped this when you attacked him." Her voice gathers strength with each word - no louder than before, but sharp with the force of her angry hurt. "You meant the dart for me. But instead you hit a person that you just met, someone that you laughed with, someone who is entirely innocent in this - who just happened to be standing next to me." The guilt that still pierces Iana for Garnyn's injuries twists her voice now, as she narrows her eyes into a furious glare.

If Iana keeps focusing on how angry she is that Garnyn was harmed, maybe she doesn't have to think about how much it hurts that Ishan wanted to harm her.

"Not that that's any better than attacking me. Were we ever really friends, Ishan?"

"O's and A," Ishan sighs, the oath deflating him. "Don't make this even more uncomfortable, Iana. Of course we're friends. We always were. If you'd just stuck to your actual job, none of this would've been a problem, but no... you always have to ask three more questions for every answer you ever find. You read a lot of Investigator Novices books as a kid, didn't you?" He sticks his hand out. "Can I have my earring back?"

While Iana decides whether to give it to him, shove it down his throat or throw it away, he continues. "Look, you've been in Obsidian long enough to know that there are times when you stop asking questions and just let things go. This was one of those times and unfortunately, some people decided that you'd finally crossed too many lines and it was time to bring you in for a talking-to. I'm sorry about your friend, but he'll be fine. He'll sleep for a couple hours and wake up nice and refreshed."

He sighs again. "Which you could have done, but now it's going to have to be the hard way. Unless you just want to come quietly? I don't want to make this any more awkward, but I have orders I can't disobey and unfortunately, they involve you rather significantly. So... which is it?" He winces. "And... don't try and run? Pretty sure I can catch you, and then it'll definitely have to be the hard way."

[Georg Elsebethson]

"Exactly what I was thinking," Antior nods in approval. "I believe we both trust the Swordmaster implicitly, and we both have reason to continue meeting with her outside of this particular enterprise. It should not occasion any additional suspicion beyond what we both have managed to occasion on our own."

Antior claps his hands together. "This has turned out to be an even more fruitful meeting than I had anticipated, despite the seriousness of what we have discussed. Or perhaps because of the seriousness. Is there anything else you believe I should know before we enact our plan?"

"There's one more thing," Georg says. "This intel is vague and filtered through the events of other pages, but whatever the conspiracy is planning, it's likely to go off during the Mayoral Ball, with catastrophic effects." Georg shakes his head. "We're talking literally pulling the island apart. I'm not sure exactly how it will happen or if we can stop it, but we need to be as prepared as we can be to deal with an island-wide disaster." "As prepared as we can be," which isn't likely to be much, both because of how little they know and because they can't tip their hand too soon.

"If we can use the riots and unrest as a pretext to improve readiness, maybe..." he muses aloud.

[Ianaeveli Tigenet]

"O's and A," Ishan sighs, the oath deflating him. "Don't make this even more uncomfortable, Iana. Of course we're friends. We always were. If you'd just stuck to your actual job, none of this would've been a problem, but no... you always have to ask three more questions for every answer you ever find. You read a lot of Investigator Novices books as a kid, didn't you?" He sticks his hand out. "Can I have my earring back?"

"What?" Iana gasps, her voice rising high and sharp with incredulous outrage. "No!"

While Iana decides whether to give it to him, shove it down his throat or throw it away, he continues. "Look, you've been in Obsidian long enough to know that there are times when you stop asking questions and just let things go. This was one of those times and unfortunately, some people decided that you'd finally crossed too many lines and it was time to bring you in for a talking-to. I'm sorry about your friend, but he'll be fine. He'll sleep for a couple hours and wake up nice and refreshed."

He sighs again. "Which you could have done, but now it's going to have to be the hard way. Unless you just want to come quietly? I don't want to make this any more awkward, but I have orders I can't disobey and unfortunately, they involve you rather significantly. So... which is it?" He winces. "And... don't try and run? Pretty sure I can catch you, and then it'll definitely have to be the hard way."

The worst part, Iana thinks, is that Ishan sounds exactly like he always has.

The same cadence, the same reasonable tone, the same humor, even. On another day, they would have laughed together about how the Investigator Novices series had been her favorite when she was a child. Except now he's talking about the conspiracy that has caused so much harm and death in the city that she loves. He's talking about playing on their friendship to capture her.

Her friend is one of them.

With every word that Ishan says in that genial, reasonable rumbling voice, her heart pounds faster and faster; with every word, fear shoots cold needles through her. The terror rises higher until it fills her entire mind, taking the place of every bit of reasoned analysis that she has done in the last few hours, and leaving behind only the most desperate and primal of thoughts.

Run. Run. Get away.

And so, even though Ishan just advised her not to, Iana turns and flees back down the aisle, feet pounding in a desperate rush for the stairs.

[AftermathGM]

She leaves them behind in the cell, and cautiously applies and reapplies her disguise as she approaches the door until she is certain she is past whatever anti-magic field fills the area before strutting out. She hardly acknowledges the guard, merely waving him off as she mutters "Useless," in her grumpy, machinist voice.

She has a few tasks ahead of her... but maybe she should try to check in with the others before doing them...

"We trust her, then?" Risine asks Adaye as Asra closes the door behind her.

"We trust her. She can be vain and she hasn't always been the bravest, but her heart is good and she can be quite clever when she chooses to be. She's come a long way from the princess that came to us as a Novice," Adaye says. She sits again, resting her hands on her thighs and rubbing them back and forth. "Between her and Eldarin and the big fellow from Granite, Elsebethson, I think they have quite a team. They complement each other well, and I understand they've brought one of the Obsidians into their investigations. Tigenet's daughter. You know M Tigenet, don't you?"

Risine nods and murmurs an assent. "We'll leave those investigations to the children then," she says and pulls the other chair up to sit in front of Adaye. "We need to get to work on your case. Tell me everything that led up to your incarceration."

Adaye's eyebrows rise. "Everything?"

Risine nods once, a slow, catlike smile creeping onto her face. "Everything."

* * *

Asra is able to leave the building without being accosted, returning to the pleasant spring day outside. She finds a quiet, out of the way place to stop and get in touch with the others. When she gets in touch with Eldarin, they pepper her with questions about Adaye's well-being and express continued concern over the Whitestone Master's isolation, a particular burden for the Naucan people. They mention that Georg has gone off to talk to Master Antior, obviously worried about his well-being. Which leads Asra to try and contact Georg, but he's not yet answering. She tries Finch next, who explodes into a flurry of worried questions about Asra's time with the Headmaster and why didn't Asra contact her first and... then she backs off, perhaps realizing she's being much too needy, and she is not a needy woman, thank you for calling and she's glad Asra is all right. And yes, she ran into Georg on his way to speak to Master Antior but she hasn't heard from him. She's still on Granite grounds, though, and can keep an eye out for him leaving the Master's building. No one, it seems, has heard from Garnyn or Iana after they went off to the Obsidian complex, but then again... information doesn't readily flow out of Obsidian. Maybe it's too soon to worry? Of course, these days, it seems like it's never too soon to worry.

[AftermathGM]

"There's one more thing," Georg says. "This intel is vague and filtered through the events of other pages, but whatever the conspiracy is planning, it's likely to go off during the Mayoral Ball, with catastrophic effects." Georg shakes his head. "We're talking literally pulling the island apart. I'm not sure exactly how it will happen or if we can stop it, but we need to be as prepared as we can be to deal with an island-wide disaster." "As prepared as we can be," which isn't likely to be much, both because of how little they know and because they can't tip their hand too soon.

"If we can use the riots and unrest as a pretext to improve readiness, maybe..." he muses aloud.

Antior runs his hands over his close-cut hair and breathes out a sigh. "That's not very long from now. I won't ask if you're certain, because it's impossible to be certain about much of anything in our current situation. I trust you wouldn't have mentioned it if you weren't confident in saying it."

He taps his fingers on the desktop. "Under less fraught circumstances, increased visibility of the Shining Guard across the city might even bring stability, but now..." And then he's off, calculating and extrapolating possibilities in his head, right at home with tactical planning. "Infrastructure," he says finally. "We send the Shining Guard out with representatives of the rioters to assess infrastructure needs. It puts people to work, demonstrates cooperation between the School and the citizens, while also giving us a stronger sense of where the city's weaknesses currently are. I'll speak with Narrison and set it up," he says, referring to the current commander of the Shining Guard, Debulus Narrison. "Debulus is close with Cheussend Alvar as well. This would be right in the High Priest of Orien's wheelhouse."