Perhaps irrationally, the first thought that Loki had upon realizing that there was a child in that cell was that it must be Siri. It probably wasnât, of course, but all the same for a single moment, terror blocked her throat at the very thought. Then she realized it didnât matter if it was or not, because someone, somewhere, was feeling that same sensation, only worse, and had been for as long as this kid had been missing.
Her moments of selflessness and generosity were painfully few and far between, but just then she didnât much care whether this information would get them any closer to what they wanted, they just needed to get the kid and get out of there. Of course, rationality descended soon afterwards, and her expression receded into grim lines as she approached the unmoving pile of blankets.
The little boy stirred weakly, and not even the process of gathering him up into her arms seemed to wake him. That wasnât a good sign, and Loki frowned. âWe need to find an exit,â she said, aware she was stating the obvious but speaking more to say something and fill a silence than to provide anything meaningful. Unlike herself, perhaps, but then, this wasnât exactly the sort of situation she was used to. Maternal instinct wasnât really something she embraced or even professed to possess, but at the same time, she supposed it wasnât so strange to want to help the poor thing.
The following day; Assassins' Guild meeting room
The princess sat in the chair at the far end of the room, though at present the stiffness in her posture was more stress than decorum. Her muscles hadnât relaxed since sheâd begun that midnight heist on the Gilgamesh Estate, and she hadnât slept in the twenty-four hours since. Everyone was here, and she was sure most of them had noticed, which under ordinary circumstances would have been absolutely unforgivable. At the moment, though, even Amon was showing subtle signs of strain. The others, perhaps a bit less so, but then most of them hadnât spent the majority of that last sun-cycle putting together the twisted dimensions of the Prime Ministerâs plot.
In the end, she wasnât sure which was stronger: his forward-thinking or his megalomania. Probably the second, and she was grateful. The documents Seth had entrusted to her bore a similar mark in the corner to the one found at the edge of the map Victoria and Pandora had provided. At first, sheâd been disappointed they couldnât get in deeper with the Liberation Movement, as the magi called themselves. But all of that had disappeared beneath a rising tide of alarm when theyâd explained what they found instead. Amon had confirmed that Ishtar was an old friend of his, but if she was passing him information so directly, there was something very wrong. Theyâd had something of a falling-out shortly before the madam married Azazel, and their contact had only been sporadic since, not to mention strained.
The writing itself was nothing terribly extraordinary, though it was very private- the Gilgamesh family business records for the last months. Aside from the fact that slaves were on the roster, there was nothing of note. Slavery wasnât even technically illegal, she just didnât happen to like it. She found, though, that much to her surprise, Seth had included copious notations next to certain items. It seemed as though he had been onto something, attempting to work it out by himself, but lacking the ability to do so. What she did find peculiar was that of the twenty-some slaves Duke Gilgamesh had bought that month, not one of them had served in the home, according to Seth, and the factory ledgers did not indicate any change in employees at all for the period.
The question of where they were going wasnât too hard to answer- the cells beneath the manâs home were an obvious enough location, but the why was much more difficult to discern. Why buy them just to keep them imprisoned? And why, despite a purchase of more than two dozen, were all the cells save one empty? Where had they gone after that? That was, surprisingly, a question answered in part by Scheherazade. The girl had taken one look at the odd marking at the top of one of the pages and frowned, brows knitting together thoughtfully. After a few hours, sheâd brought Loki a tome on Revelation architecture that sheâd been reading a while ago and pointed out that the inked symbol recalled an old masonâs mark from the cityâs founding.
That hadnât meant much until she and Amon had done a little more digging. Apparently, the mark was actually used in masonry only after first being a religious icon from the time before the city was necessary or existent. Elisia herself had reappropriated the old cult mark of the goddess and had it stamped into the bricks that built her palace and the surrounding buildings.
Of course, it was only when Amon told her about the room beneath Beta with the same sigil etched into the floor that her confusion started gradually receding, leaving a burgeoning dread to fester in its place. The map was a separate but equally vital piece of the picture. I donât think the magi fully understand what theyâre doing, she could not help but think, but part of her wondered if, great manipulator as he was, even Gilgamesh had the wherewithal to plan this by himself. It just seemed like⊠she must have miscalculated what he was capable of, because this was beyond what she had thought possible.
Inhaling deeply, she tried not to sigh before she spoke. âRight, well⊠apparently Duke Gilgamesh has gone off the deep end.â She had never been any good at sugar-coating things, and she wasnât going to start trying at the moment, horrible as that was. âIt seems he has been buying slaves for the sole purpose of killing them. Amon, Danterus, and Giacomo found a⊠room underneath Beta with evidence of as much, and Eos and I stumbled upon where heâd been holding them.â Theyâd also stumbled upon Lord Chandlerâs son Benjamin, but the boy had yet to respond to medical care and was still largely comatose. âIt seems that his political prisoners have been receiving the same treatment. I donât know what he thinks heâs going to achieve, but itâs a safe bet that it would sound absolutely insane to most if not all of us and is probably also religiously-tinged. I canât tell to what degree the magi were aware of this, but Azazelâs wife at least seems to have had some knowledge of what was going on.â
âLike as not, the man himself wonât hear any of it,â Amon pointed out dryly. âHe doubtless sees Gilgamesh as his puppet, not the other way around, and refuses to believe heâd be capable of doing something like this right under his nose.â The Guildmasterâs eyes fell to the two maps. Loki had noted that the one given to Azazel and Ishtar was bereft of the otherâs more incriminating marks. âWeâve been discussing it-â âweâ meaning the smiths, Giacomo, and Amon- âand it seems most likely that Gilgameshâs men are going to be setting charged explosives beneath the city. Probably around the time of Gilgameshâs trial.â
Loki nodded. âIt wouldnât surprise me if the mages conveniently chose that day to march as well.â It meant that she and Caelin at the very least would be otherwise occupied and in a very specific place when the events occurred, as would the Duke himself. The eye of the storm is the safest place to be? I think not. Rubbing at her temples, she glanced back up at the others. âItâs not all bad news though. Thanks to a bit of good thinking and a bit of dumb luck, Chandlerâs moderates will help us if we can present enough proof. I think I know how we can get it without incriminating ourselves, but it will take a bit of convincing. Garbiel has secured us the assistance of the second most influential guild in the city, and pressure from the smiths is bound to turn a few of their business partners into more amicable men as well.â She discretely chose not to mention that part of the reason for that was a well-timed hit.
âIf this goes the way I think itâs going to go, weâll be doing three things at once: putting on a show for Parliament, diffusing explosives belowground, and stopping the magi from destroying the city. Volunteers?â The question was asked in resigned tones, as though the very utterance of the single-word question was a great labor. In a way, it was. This small group of people had done more than they should ever have needed to for the city, and most of them would probably remain unrecognized for that- assuming they even survived this. Some of them would probably even remain hated for the rest of their lives. Loki didnât really want to think about what this whole rebellion was going to do to Pandoraâs chances of not being assaulted on sight should she ever presume to enter Beta.
âNo matter what you decide, weâve got a week until the trial. If youâre still in this, youâd best prepare yourselves however you can.â Closing her eyes, she slowly leaned back into her chair. There was a great mountain of tasks for her to surmount personally before then, and already she was running contingencies and trying to account for the ever-incalculable illogical human factor. It only seemed to grow more difficult with time.