Dreamer's Throne -
Book 2: Chapter 27
One of the benefits of having a significant level of mental influence over the people around him was that it only took Garrett a single day to get everything organized for his absence. Ryn was the hardest, as she was upset that she couldn’t come with him, but eventually he convinced her that her time was better spent managing the business. She reluctantly agreed, but only after he agreed to call her if there was a way she could help. Everyone else already had their roles and all Garrett had to do was ask them to keep doing what they were doing. He would still get information through the dream flower network, and could issue commands as needed, so he wasn’t worried about everything falling apart while he wasn’t there.
The biggest challenge was that he would not physically be near the Dreamer’s Throne, so when he went into the dream he would have to be much more cautious. It was with some surprise that he realized how much he mentally relied on the safety that the mysterious throne granted him, but despite the bit of fear that awoke in his heart, he wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity. Once everything at the inn was in order, Garrett spent the rest of the week following Marta to a few different tailors to get some pieces of clothing that would be acceptable for the party that he was going to.
According to the plan, the exorcist’s guild would cover the cost of his outfit, but Garrett just waved her off and paid for his own clothing. He didn’t trust that they wouldn’t ask for the clothing back later, and he had plenty of use for nice clothing so he purchased what he wanted himself, using his memories from his time in the palace as a gauge for what he needed. He also commissioned a new, fancier looking wheelchair and bought himself a pair of glasses with clear glass lenses. By the time the end of the week rolled around, he looked every inch a young, bookish nobleman, albeit with a disability.
Marta had been sticking close to him throughout the week, all under the guise of helping him with his shopping, and after saying goodbye to Ryn and the others, Garrett followed her to the place where the team was meeting. The exorcist’s headquarters was near the adventurer’s guild building, and while it was not nearly as impressive as that building, it was still much bigger than Dreamer’s Inn, at roughly twice its size. There were about a dozen people hanging around, all of them carrying the slightly spooky air common to exorcists, but when Marta introduced them they seemed normal enough. The team met up in a back room and Chief Fellix stopped by to give Garrett the invitation that would get them into the party.
“Here you go. It cost a pretty pile of coin to get, so please don’t ruin this chance. We’re counting on you for this mission to go smoothly, as it will open up access to the noble classes for us, which would be good. They have an inordinate amount of encounters with mysterious artifacts and it would be good if they started reaching out to us.”
Taking the invitation, Garrett read his name on it, flowing in a flowery script often used in noble circles. With a nod he slid it into the breast pocket of his doublet.
“I was wondering about that, actually. Surely they see the need for exorcists?”
“Oh, they do,” Chief Fellix said, his expression bitter. “They just prefer the exorcists from the southern part of the city. Our guild is split into two areas, the northern side of the river, and the southern side of the river, where the palace is. They think we’re too low class to deal with, so they put in special requests for the southern exorcists to cross the river. Our goal is to change that.”
“And the slums?”
“Oh, they’re on their own,” Marta said with a short laugh, waving her hand. “The infection is terrible over there. Why do you think they built that big wall to fence them all in? Go check it out sometime, it's positively covered in wards.”
Keeping his expression even, Garrett nodded, his mind whirling.
It seems that I’ve been mistaken about this world. It's not that I’m the only one who knows about the dream, but that the people who do consider it a major threat. A type of corruption. If there are wards to block the spread of the dream, it follows that those in power know a fair amount about how it works. I need to figure out a way to get my hands on those wards to see if they would be useful for me. Or at least, learn how to break them so they can’t be used against me.
Henri and Grant were both dressed in simple black uniforms with gleaming breastplates and swords at their sides, looking every inch the part that they would play. Of the two, Henri’s expression and way of carrying himself fit the part better, and Garrett suspected the grizzled older man had served in the military. Grant, on the other hand, was rather sloppy, both in the way he dressed, and the way he held himself, but Garrett didn’t make a point of it. After Marta had changed into the dress she would wear, she came out to show her outfit to everyone, twirling around as she asked Garrett what he thought.
“It’s too expensive,” Garrett replied flatly, causing her face to fall and Grant to choke back a laugh.
“I think it looks nice.”
“An irrelevant consideration,” Garrett replied, his tone ruthless. “If you are playing the part of an assistant, your goal is to be unobtrusive. You should be wearing a plain dress and carrying a notebook. You could never buy a dress like that on an assistant’s salary, which would hint that we have an entangled relationship, which will ruin both of our reputations. Here, you can use these glasses. They’re clear glass, but they’ll help with the look. Change into something simple. Actually, just wear pants. I should have an extra white shirt in my bag that will fit you.”
Pouting, Marta accepted the clothing that Garrett tossed to her and went back behind the screen to change. Flashing a small smile at Garrett, Grant gave him a thumbs up.
“Good job not getting pushed around. I still don’t think you belong here, but I like the way you handled her. Give her an inch and she wants a mile. Best way to handle—”
“Shut up, Grant!” Marta said, throwing her heavy dress over the screen to land on Grant’s head with surprising accuracy.
A few minutes later, Marta walked out from behind the screen in her dark leather pants, boots, and the crisp white silk shirt that Garrett had lent her. She looked sharp and energetic in the new outfit, but when she slipped the glasses on and picked up the notebook he held out she transformed into a reserved assistant.
“I like that,” Henri said, nodding his approval. “You look like a sheathed blade. Effective but not forward. Are you comfortable in that outfit?”
“More comfortable than in the dress,” Marta said, picking at the sleeve. “This is closer to what I normally wear. It’s a shame that I won’t get to wear my dress, but I do like this. What do you think, Grant?”
“You look nice.”
“Thank you. Garrett?”
“I think we should be ready to go,” Garrett said, completely ignoring her request for a compliment.
With an annoyed huff, Marta fell in behind him, placing the notebook in a small bag behind his chair and taking the handles. They had rented a carriage to take them to the count’s property, and they soon arrived at the impressive estate. Unlike the powerful high ranked nobles who lived across the river, northern nobles like Count Hotis didn’t have extensive walled gardens, but instead lived in large mansions that were squeezed in among the smaller homes of the middle class.
Pulling into a long street, the carriage stopped behind a line of other carriages like it and the team waited in silence until it was their turn to disembark. They had already discussed their roles, and had settled into them. For Garrett, it was a natural thing, and he didn’t feel like he was playing pretend at all. When they finally moved up in front of the Count’s mansion, Grant jumped down to hold the door while Marta alighted and got the fancy looking wheelchair down. Under the surprised stare of the steward standing at the door, Garrett was helped down by Henri.
The carriage pulled away as Garrett got settled, but instead of hurrying out of the way of the next carriage, he took his time, undisturbed that he was holding up the line. Once he was comfortable, he nodded and Marta pushed him forward, Henri and Grant falling in beside him. Marta was a powerful lighting stage awakened, so it was easy enough for her to lift Garrett’s wheelchair, even when he was sitting in it, and so she walked him up the stairs, causing the steward’s eyes to open even wider.
Between the unique way she was dressed and the clear indication that she was awakened, the steward was impressed and quickly bowed low as he greeted Garrett.
“Welcome to Count Hotis’ home.”
“Thank you,” Garrett said softly, taking the invitation out and handing it over.
With hardly a glance at it, the steward ushered them into the marble lined entry hall, directing one of the dozen footmen who were lining the hall to show them to their apartment. In typical style, the mansion was a mishmash of different styles, with some of the rooms and hallways updated in modern styles, but many more in styles popular in past generations. The intent was to hint at how long the history of the noble’s line was, but Garrett happened to know that Count Hotis had recently purchased this home from a defunct noble family that had fallen on hard times.
Going up two more flights of stairs, they were led to a long hallway where all of the home’s rooms were lined up, and assigned a chamber at the end of the hall. It consisted of a room, a rudimentary bathroom, and a small space that doubled as a closet and a room for servants to sleep in. Bright wallpaper covered the walls, and the furniture matched the detailed wooden wainscoting that ran around the room. The large four-poster bed had thick columns that held up the velvet curtains, no doubt for blocking out the light on hung-over mornings, and a cheery fire burned in the fireplace. Looking around, Garrett nodded.
“This will do.”
Playing her part, Marta slipped a silver coin into the footman’s hand and gave him a smile that seemed to stun him. After she had pushed him out of the room, she closed the door and the team gathered to determine their next moves.
“Garrett, the party starts in two hours, so hang out here until then. Grant, stay with him. Marta and I will see if we can get a better understanding of the layout of the house. I’ll check the back gardens and kitchen, Marta, you sweep the first floor and second floor. See if you can make friends with the steward. We have three days here, so we don’t need to rush, but once night falls, be on your guard. Items and people infected by the dream tend to attract each other, and with four of us gathered together, we need to keep a sharp eye out. Once the party starts we’ll make our appearance in the garden, and then, while Garrett is at dinner, Grant and I will see if we can find the room that has the mirror.”
Once the plan was set, Garrett and Grant settled in to wait while the other two left to start looking around. Garrett pulled himself up next to the fire and enjoyed its warmth as he relaxed. He had no idea what was coming, so he wanted to make sure that his energy was at its maximum. Half an hour later, the door opened up and both Marta and Henri came back in, their expressions terrible.
“What’s wrong?” Grant asked, his sleepy look vanishing.
“Eben is here,” Henri said, his voice a growl.
Letting out an immediate groan, Grant put his head in his hand.
“You have to be kidding.”
“Who is Eben?” Garrett asked, looking between the two men.
Sighing and taking a seat in one of the overstuffed chairs, Marta picked at the expensive embroidery on the armrest as she answered.
“Eben is one of the top exorcists in the city. He operates mostly in the southern district, but has worked in the north enough to recognize Grant and Henri. There is a bit of a competitive tension between them.”
“Competitive tension? You call trying to kill me competitive tension?” Grant hissed.
“In fairness, you were trying to kill him too,” Marta snapped back.
“Be quiet,” Henri said, his expression dour. “We need a new plan. Thankfully, we have Garrett, who Eben doesn’t know. Marta, can you change your look? He shouldn’t have a clear idea of who you are, but just in case he’s seen you before.”
“Yes, but the steward and footmen have already seen me, so the change might be noticed.”
“We’ll just have to risk it. Just try to make it subtle.”
Nodding, Marta went over to the luggage the team had brought and unpacked a small box with an intricate design carved into the top. Garrett had never seen anything like it before, but he could immediately feel a disconcerting pressure from it, as if the symbol could push him back. It was only a feeling, as he didn’t actually get pushed back when Marta brought the box over. Tapping the top, she unlatched it and opened it up, revealing a pair of glittering diamond hair pins.
As soon as the box opened up, the suppression that the symbol gave Garrett vanished, and instead he felt a hint of connection with the diamond hair pins. It wasn’t hard to identify the feeling, as Garrett felt it all the time, through both his link to the Dreamer’s Throne, and his connection to the dream flowers. Picking up the mysterious artifacts, Marta fixed them in her hair, and in a blink she had shifted, becoming a blonde with green eyes. More impressively, the shape of her face subtly changed, her jawline softening and her nose growing slightly longer. Even the shape of her eyes was slightly altered, and though the change to each of her features was slight, the combined effect was that she looked almost nothing like she had before.
“Good. Just don’t forget to pay the cost, or we’ll have problems,” Henri said, looking over her disguise carefully. “We aren’t supposed to be here, so Grant and I will stay hidden while the two of you do the investigation. Once you find the mirror and figure out what is going on, you can let us know and we’ll join you, but until then, you’re on your own.”
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