Drake ruefully shook his head. “We really can’t talk about this sort of thing anywhere but here, can we?”
“Not if we wish to maintain our standing with the noble court,” Sky said. “I’ve told you how they might react if they knew how we’d adjusted our blood pacts.”
“So then...” Drake looked to Felix.
“The Proudglade blood pact remains unchanged,” Felix said. “My father protects his thralls and would never harm them, and thus sees no issue with the status quo. Should he ever learn I believe differently, I would be moved lower in the line of succession... or removed.”
“Let’s all hope that doesn’t happen,” Drake agreed. “Still, given what I learned about this world when I first arrived, I didn’t expect to find multiple people who agreed with me.”
“To be completely accurate, you agree with us,” Sky said.
Drake chuckled. “That’s fair. You did decide this before I did, but only because I was busy being poor in another world.”
Felix nodded thoughtfully. “The fact that you came here from an entirely separate realm certainly sets you apart. You seem to have acclimated to our realm well enough.”
“After I first got here, I was too busy trying not to die to worry about whether I was acclimating. At some point between the old lord trying to ritually sacrifice me and some asshole sucking my blood out through my eyes, it just happened.”
“I’m glad we were able to speak about these matters.” Felix smiled. “Now, I must excuse myself. I’ve lingered longer than I would for worship, and my father... I should not be away for long. Is there anything else you wish to discuss before I leave?”
Drake considered for a moment to make sure Felix didn’t think he was blowing him off. “No. Thank you. I’m good for now, but I hope we can speak again.”
“It is likely we will not speak again for many years,” Felix said. “Until then, I wish you both well. May the Eidolons watch over you.”
“Same to you,” Drake said.
Once Felix left, he glanced at Sky. “So, one question.”
“Yes?”
“Can the Eidolons really watch over anyone? They’re all asleep.”
Sky sighed. “It is just like you to question the gods in the sight of them.”
“Shouldn’t someone? They came up with blood pacts, after all.”
“That... may not be entirely correct.”
Drake stared at her. “Do you know something I don’t?”
“Quite a lot, actually.” Sky smiled to show she was teasing. “But if you are referring specifically to the commonly held belief that blood pacts have been with us for as long as the world has existed... there are rumors. Rumors I have rarely spoken of to anyone else. Rumors I would not dare speak anywhere but here, where I know we will not be intruded upon.”
“What rumors?”
“That the blood pacts were not designed by the Eidolons, but were instead a conceit developed by our very own manor lords... and far more recently than the dawn of the world.”
Drake stared at her in shock. She offered nothing else. Finally, he decided to press. “What makes you believe that?”
“I don’t believe it, as I’ve said. I’ve simply heard rumors.”
Drake nodded. “Okay, fair. What are these rumors?”
“Let me ask you something first. My spies have provided me with many details about your manor, though your own spies are annoyingly good at keeping word from leaking out. Even so, it’s my understanding that there was a large fire in Gloomwood Manor about one hundred years ago. Only the strength of your silverwood saved you from burning down.”
Drake considered. “You mean... was it in my library?” He remembered Zuri’s wide open library, filled with open flames and lots of nicely flammable paper.
“I know only that it occurred in a room near the outside of the manor, and the damage was largely to the interior,” Sky said. “Did you lose many records in that fire? Or do you know?”
“Of course, lord,” Zuri said primly. “As I mentioned yesterday, I keep several tomes documenting all who have served in Gloomwood Manor going back long before my predecessor. Unfortunately, records beyond one hundred years back were lost in a fire.”
“We did lose records,” Drake said quietly. “Are you telling me we aren’t the only ones?”
“A large number of records in Skybreak Manor were lost when a break in the masonry allowed them to be flooded during a torrential storm,” Sky said. “This happened many years before my mother inherited our manor, and my keep is as solid as they come. I found it exceedingly strange that such damage to such a vital room could occur.”
“And the records you lost, they were histories?”
“We lost a number of records of all sorts, but histories were among them. No written history older than a hundred years exists in my manor’s archives.”
He felt a chill he couldn’t easily shake. “Sky, I don’t want to alarm you or anything, but this almost sounds like... a conspiracy.”
Her real, warm smile was the reward he’d been hoping for. Drake was getting to like her smile an awful lot. Not to mention pretty much everything else about her.
They were alone again, together. In a sacred chamber with the world’s gods where not a soul would ever bother or observe them. They were leaning on a railing, next to each other, looking at each other, and he only then noticed she was close enough to touch. If he dared.
Would he dare?
Welcome images of her eagerly kissing him as he ran his hands along those adorable braids filled his mind. As did a vision of her stepping back, wide-eyed and shocked, and slapping him. Then her yelling something about how he had committed a grave offense that meant she must dissolve their alliance because he’d... kissed her. It was so ludicrous, and yet...
No. Even if Sky wanted him to do that, it wouldn’t be appropriate, and it was far too dangerous to his manor’s well-being and his own to let a single hormone-charged mistake destroy all the trust and camaraderie he’d gained since they first met. They were already in an alliance. Anything else would take years and would probably be arranged carefully.
“Clint?” Sky asked softly.
He swallowed. “Yeah?”
“Is everything all right?”
He took a breath. “Just considering the idea we just pitched.” Nothing wrong with a little white lie. “That someone conspired to eliminate all records of history prior to one hundred years ago not just in my manor, but yours. Do we know of missing records in any others?”
As Sky looked into the pit again, whatever moment had passed between them faded comfortably into memory. “Felix has a similar story. His manor’s records were not destroyed, but all records older than one hundred years are sealed away in a vault only the lord of Proudglade Manor can open. Ostensibly, it was done to make the records that are pertinent to the manor’s day to day easier to find. The rest are in ‘deep storage’.”
“Which means no one can read them and find out they’ve been fed a load of bullshit,” Drake agreed. “I wish we could find out if such records were deleted from all the other manors. Still, with this in mind, let’s try a thought experiment.”
He had to be very careful when he spoke if he wanted to avoid giving away his ability to lie. As he considered, he thought back to the day he, Lydia, and Emily had wargamed out the attack by Proudglade Knights on his manor in the diorama. How Lydia had spoken.
“Let’s pretend we are both manor lords, running our manors a little over a hundred years ago, and we’ve been having problems keeping our people loyal. Let’s say we’ve had some desertions, maybe even a few betrayals. So we decide to do something about that.”
“An interesting thought exercise indeed,” Sky agreed. “Now, as we pretend, how could we solve this? What if we found a way to ensure our people’s loyalty through magic?”
“They might not be happy about that,” Drake agreed. “Or maybe they would be, but we’re worried future generations might not be. It would be much easier to ensure everyone accepts our new arrangement if we convinced them it came directly from the Eidolons.”
“But what of the records disproving such a claim?” Sky asked. “Those would make such efforts moot, unless... they were removed.”
Drake nodded. “I was a little concerned this world didn’t have its own conspiracy theories. We have plenty of mine. But this theory almost sounds plausible.”
“There was, however, a reason I’ve never taken such rumors seriously,” Sky said. “In order for such a belief to be raised, someone would have to be the first to speak it. To record it. Yet how could it be possible to speak of a history in which one did not believe?”
“Right,” Drake said. It finally dawned on him. “It’s possible the scribes who recorded that blood pacts have been around since the creation of the world believed it, but someone had to tell them the fake history first. And someone had to tell that person that. At some point, someone had to tell someone else something they didn’t believe.”
“Which is impossible,” Sky agreed. “Isn’t it?” She eyed him knowingly.
“So far as I know,” Drake lied. “Don’t tell me you’re going to buy Redbow’s crap.”
“I have no intention of buying anything from that man,” Sky said, as her amusement vanished beneath resolve. “As I said, the basis of this conspiracy was a ludicrous notion. Until...”
“Westin,” Drake finished quietly. “I see it. My librarian, Zuri, told me that rarities are called rare because they are rarely repeated, and if it does happen, it’s decades apart. But now, thanks to Westin, we know the gods sometimes grant rarities that allow a person to change what another person remembers. So if a rarity like Westin’s occurred a hundred years ago...”
“It could enable the conspiracy I never myself believed.” This time, as Sky looked once more into the horse pit, she visibly shivered. “It would allow someone to speak words they believed... that the Eidolons created the blood pacts... when it was manor lords instead.”
“And not just the manor lords,” Drake said meaningfully.
“No.” Sky’s gaze remained fixed on the horse god pile below. “For such a conspiracy to succeed and take root, the noble court would also need to cooperate.”
“And just suggesting they did that might be close to an unforgivable crime.”
“We can never speak of this anywhere other than here,” Sky agreed quietly. “I hesitate to speak of it all, but I... I trust you, Clint.”
“Me too,” Drake said. “I trust you as much as trust anyone in my manor.”
“This is the one and only chamber in the entire capital where I know only manor lords like you and me are allowed. No one dares defy the Eidolons in their own house.”
Except me, apparently, Drake thought silently. With the Eidolons all napping below, that made him more than a bit nervous.
Sky took a deep breath. This obviously troubled her. Drake resisted the urge to reach out and squeeze her shoulder. She wasn’t looking for that sort of reassurance.
He looked down into the pit instead. “If only we could ask them.”
“There is one place where we might find the truth,” Sky added.
“Yeah? Where?”
“The Korhaurbauten Archives.”
“Is that a big library?”
“The biggest in the land. It is also forbidden for any to visit other than those who serve the noble court. The Judge and her chosen.”
“Typical,” Drake agreed.
“Manor lords can request books and information from the archives and do receive them, but they are not allowed to peruse such stacks for information on their own. Even the most trusted manor lord is not trusted to roam freely in the archives.”
“Which means it’s not possible to get a look at the real history, and if you even ask, the noble court could have questions.” Drake sighed. “And after this long, who knows if anyone still even remembers what things were like a hundred years ago? The Judge isn’t that old.”
“So you see why I have never seriously considered or investigated this conspiracy. Before Westin Proudglade, there was no reason to think anyone could speak words they did not believe, which would be necessary to set it in motion. Even now, neither you nor I can visit the archives, and our own records of centuries before this have been destroyed.”
“It’s tempting to dig further,” Drake agreed. “But... I think this has to wait. We have a genocidal kromian prince to depose and our own manors to protect. I also apparently need to get back and have a chat with the silverwood, since it’s intelligent. Did you know that?”
“Everyone knows that.” Sky shook her head. “You really are from another world.”
“Yeah, well, who was our forty-second president on Earth?”
Sky watched him for a moment. “I have no idea.”
“See?” Drake threw up his hands. “There’s no way I’d know I owned a talking tree!”
“I’m fairly certain it does not speak, though I have not spoken with it myself,” Sky amended with a smile. “All communication with the silverwood is rumored to be in the mind. Also, you have a pact with it. That’s not the same as owning it.”
“That all makes sense, I guess.” Drake glanced down at the horse pile again. “You think that’s how the Eidolons speak to Haley, the door guardian? Through telepathy?”
“The Eidolons speak to the door guardian? I never knew that.”
“They do it all the time, apparently. She mentioned it.”
“In regards to what?”
Oops. How could he answer that? As Drake struggled to come up with a reasonable lie, the black six-legged horse god on the pile below yawned, smacked its lips loudly enough it echoed throughout the chamber, and opened its eyes to stare up at him.
“There you are,” the horse god said.
Drake ruefully shook his head. “We really can’t talk about this sort of thing anywhere but here, can we?”
“Not if we wish to maintain our standing with the noble court,” Sky said. “I’ve told you how they might react if they knew how we’d adjusted our blood pacts.”
“So then...” Drake looked to Felix.
“The Proudglade blood pact remains unchanged,” Felix said. “My father protects his thralls and would never harm them, and thus sees no issue with the status quo. Should he ever learn I believe differently, I would be moved lower in the line of succession... or removed.”
“Let’s all hope that doesn’t happen,” Drake agreed. “Still, given what I learned about this world when I first arrived, I didn’t expect to find multiple people who agreed with me.”
“To be completely accurate, you agree with us,” Sky said.
Drake chuckled. “That’s fair. You did decide this before I did, but only because I was busy being poor in another world.”
Felix nodded thoughtfully. “The fact that you came here from an entirely separate realm certainly sets you apart. You seem to have acclimated to our realm well enough.”
“After I first got here, I was too busy trying not to die to worry about whether I was acclimating. At some point between the old lord trying to ritually sacrifice me and some asshole sucking my blood out through my eyes, it just happened.”
“I’m glad we were able to speak about these matters.” Felix smiled. “Now, I must excuse myself. I’ve lingered longer than I would for worship, and my father... I should not be away for long. Is there anything else you wish to discuss before I leave?”
Drake considered for a moment to make sure Felix didn’t think he was blowing him off. “No. Thank you. I’m good for now, but I hope we can speak again.”
“It is likely we will not speak again for many years,” Felix said. “Until then, I wish you both well. May the Eidolons watch over you.”
“Same to you,” Drake said.
Once Felix left, he glanced at Sky. “So, one question.”
“Yes?”
“Can the Eidolons really watch over anyone? They’re all asleep.”
Sky sighed. “It is just like you to question the gods in the sight of them.”
“Shouldn’t someone? They came up with blood pacts, after all.”
“That... may not be entirely correct.”
Drake stared at her. “Do you know something I don’t?”
“Quite a lot, actually.” Sky smiled to show she was teasing. “But if you are referring specifically to the commonly held belief that blood pacts have been with us for as long as the world has existed... there are rumors. Rumors I have rarely spoken of to anyone else. Rumors I would not dare speak anywhere but here, where I know we will not be intruded upon.”
“What rumors?”
“That the blood pacts were not designed by the Eidolons, but were instead a conceit developed by our very own manor lords... and far more recently than the dawn of the world.”
Drake stared at her in shock. She offered nothing else. Finally, he decided to press. “What makes you believe that?”
“I don’t believe it, as I’ve said. I’ve simply heard rumors.”
Drake nodded. “Okay, fair. What are these rumors?”
“Let me ask you something first. My spies have provided me with many details about your manor, though your own spies are annoyingly good at keeping word from leaking out. Even so, it’s my understanding that there was a large fire in Gloomwood Manor about one hundred years ago. Only the strength of your silverwood saved you from burning down.”
Drake considered. “You mean... was it in my library?” He remembered Zuri’s wide open library, filled with open flames and lots of nicely flammable paper.
“I know only that it occurred in a room near the outside of the manor, and the damage was largely to the interior,” Sky said. “Did you lose many records in that fire? Or do you know?”
“Of course, lord,” Zuri said primly. “As I mentioned yesterday, I keep several tomes documenting all who have served in Gloomwood Manor going back long before my predecessor. Unfortunately, records beyond one hundred years back were lost in a fire.”
“We did lose records,” Drake said quietly. “Are you telling me we aren’t the only ones?”
“A large number of records in Skybreak Manor were lost when a break in the masonry allowed them to be flooded during a torrential storm,” Sky said. “This happened many years before my mother inherited our manor, and my keep is as solid as they come. I found it exceedingly strange that such damage to such a vital room could occur.”
“And the records you lost, they were histories?”
“We lost a number of records of all sorts, but histories were among them. No written history older than a hundred years exists in my manor’s archives.”
He felt a chill he couldn’t easily shake. “Sky, I don’t want to alarm you or anything, but this almost sounds like... a conspiracy.”
Her real, warm smile was the reward he’d been hoping for. Drake was getting to like her smile an awful lot. Not to mention pretty much everything else about her.
They were alone again, together. In a sacred chamber with the world’s gods where not a soul would ever bother or observe them. They were leaning on a railing, next to each other, looking at each other, and he only then noticed she was close enough to touch. If he dared.
Would he dare?
Welcome images of her eagerly kissing him as he ran his hands along those adorable braids filled his mind. As did a vision of her stepping back, wide-eyed and shocked, and slapping him. Then her yelling something about how he had committed a grave offense that meant she must dissolve their alliance because he’d... kissed her. It was so ludicrous, and yet...
No. Even if Sky wanted him to do that, it wouldn’t be appropriate, and it was far too dangerous to his manor’s well-being and his own to let a single hormone-charged mistake destroy all the trust and camaraderie he’d gained since they first met. They were already in an alliance. Anything else would take years and would probably be arranged carefully.
“Clint?” Sky asked softly.
He swallowed. “Yeah?”
“Is everything all right?”
He took a breath. “Just considering the idea we just pitched.” Nothing wrong with a little white lie. “That someone conspired to eliminate all records of history prior to one hundred years ago not just in my manor, but yours. Do we know of missing records in any others?”
As Sky looked into the pit again, whatever moment had passed between them faded comfortably into memory. “Felix has a similar story. His manor’s records were not destroyed, but all records older than one hundred years are sealed away in a vault only the lord of Proudglade Manor can open. Ostensibly, it was done to make the records that are pertinent to the manor’s day to day easier to find. The rest are in ‘deep storage’.”
“Which means no one can read them and find out they’ve been fed a load of bullshit,” Drake agreed. “I wish we could find out if such records were deleted from all the other manors. Still, with this in mind, let’s try a thought experiment.”
He had to be very careful when he spoke if he wanted to avoid giving away his ability to lie. As he considered, he thought back to the day he, Lydia, and Emily had wargamed out the attack by Proudglade Knights on his manor in the diorama. How Lydia had spoken.
“Let’s pretend we are both manor lords, running our manors a little over a hundred years ago, and we’ve been having problems keeping our people loyal. Let’s say we’ve had some desertions, maybe even a few betrayals. So we decide to do something about that.”
“An interesting thought exercise indeed,” Sky agreed. “Now, as we pretend, how could we solve this? What if we found a way to ensure our people’s loyalty through magic?”
“They might not be happy about that,” Drake agreed. “Or maybe they would be, but we’re worried future generations might not be. It would be much easier to ensure everyone accepts our new arrangement if we convinced them it came directly from the Eidolons.”
“But what of the records disproving such a claim?” Sky asked. “Those would make such efforts moot, unless... they were removed.”
Drake nodded. “I was a little concerned this world didn’t have its own conspiracy theories. We have plenty of mine. But this theory almost sounds plausible.”
“There was, however, a reason I’ve never taken such rumors seriously,” Sky said. “In order for such a belief to be raised, someone would have to be the first to speak it. To record it. Yet how could it be possible to speak of a history in which one did not believe?”
“Right,” Drake said. It finally dawned on him. “It’s possible the scribes who recorded that blood pacts have been around since the creation of the world believed it, but someone had to tell them the fake history first. And someone had to tell that person that. At some point, someone had to tell someone else something they didn’t believe.”
“Which is impossible,” Sky agreed. “Isn’t it?” She eyed him knowingly.
“So far as I know,” Drake lied. “Don’t tell me you’re going to buy Redbow’s crap.”
“I have no intention of buying anything from that man,” Sky said, as her amusement vanished beneath resolve. “As I said, the basis of this conspiracy was a ludicrous notion. Until...”
“Westin,” Drake finished quietly. “I see it. My librarian, Zuri, told me that rarities are called rare because they are rarely repeated, and if it does happen, it’s decades apart. But now, thanks to Westin, we know the gods sometimes grant rarities that allow a person to change what another person remembers. So if a rarity like Westin’s occurred a hundred years ago...”
“It could enable the conspiracy I never myself believed.” This time, as Sky looked once more into the horse pit, she visibly shivered. “It would allow someone to speak words they believed... that the Eidolons created the blood pacts... when it was manor lords instead.”
“And not just the manor lords,” Drake said meaningfully.
“No.” Sky’s gaze remained fixed on the horse god pile below. “For such a conspiracy to succeed and take root, the noble court would also need to cooperate.”
“And just suggesting they did that might be close to an unforgivable crime.”
“We can never speak of this anywhere other than here,” Sky agreed quietly. “I hesitate to speak of it all, but I... I trust you, Clint.”
“Me too,” Drake said. “I trust you as much as trust anyone in my manor.”
“This is the one and only chamber in the entire capital where I know only manor lords like you and me are allowed. No one dares defy the Eidolons in their own house.”
Except me, apparently, Drake thought silently. With the Eidolons all napping below, that made him more than a bit nervous.
Sky took a deep breath. This obviously troubled her. Drake resisted the urge to reach out and squeeze her shoulder. She wasn’t looking for that sort of reassurance.
He looked down into the pit instead. “If only we could ask them.”
“There is one place where we might find the truth,” Sky added.
“Yeah? Where?”
“The Korhaurbauten Archives.”
“Is that a big library?”
“The biggest in the land. It is also forbidden for any to visit other than those who serve the noble court. The Judge and her chosen.”
“Typical,” Drake agreed.
“Manor lords can request books and information from the archives and do receive them, but they are not allowed to peruse such stacks for information on their own. Even the most trusted manor lord is not trusted to roam freely in the archives.”
“Which means it’s not possible to get a look at the real history, and if you even ask, the noble court could have questions.” Drake sighed. “And after this long, who knows if anyone still even remembers what things were like a hundred years ago? The Judge isn’t that old.”
“So you see why I have never seriously considered or investigated this conspiracy. Before Westin Proudglade, there was no reason to think anyone could speak words they did not believe, which would be necessary to set it in motion. Even now, neither you nor I can visit the archives, and our own records of centuries before this have been destroyed.”
“It’s tempting to dig further,” Drake agreed. “But... I think this has to wait. We have a genocidal kromian prince to depose and our own manors to protect. I also apparently need to get back and have a chat with the silverwood, since it’s intelligent. Did you know that?”
“Everyone knows that.” Sky shook her head. “You really are from another world.”
“Yeah, well, who was our forty-second president on Earth?”
Sky watched him for a moment. “I have no idea.”
“See?” Drake threw up his hands. “There’s no way I’d know I owned a talking tree!”
“I’m fairly certain it does not speak, though I have not spoken with it myself,” Sky amended with a smile. “All communication with the silverwood is rumored to be in the mind. Also, you have a pact with it. That’s not the same as owning it.”
“That all makes sense, I guess.” Drake glanced down at the horse pile again. “You think that’s how the Eidolons speak to Haley, the door guardian? Through telepathy?”
“The Eidolons speak to the door guardian? I never knew that.”
“They do it all the time, apparently. She mentioned it.”
“In regards to what?”
Oops. How could he answer that? As Drake struggled to come up with a reasonable lie, the black six-legged horse god on the pile below yawned, smacked its lips loudly enough it echoed throughout the chamber, and opened its eyes to stare up at him.
“There you are,” the horse god said.
