The Stargazer's War - Chapter 3.7

Chapter 3.7: Party’s Over

I cycled my lungs and heart to calm myself as partygoers around us rushed in for a better look or inconspicuously made for the door.  I realized swiftly that Micaiah and I stood out, seemingly the only two in the entire ballroom who hadn’t leapt into some kind of action.  Our view of the corpse had long been obstructed by the press of bodies, though the did little deafen the wails from whom I can only assume to be Cassie Urlitch.

“Cal!”  Charlotte materialized at my side.  “Time to go.”

“What?”  Micaiah asked.  “Won’t that be suspicious?  Cal and Austin were fighting just yesterday.  If we leave now—”

“Nobody who matters will think you did this,” Charlotte snapped.  “But we need to leave.  Now.”

I grabbed Micaiah’s hand, and together we followed Charlotte to where Xavier waited by the exit.  I caught him staring across the ballroom as we approached, and followed his gaze not to the mass of people around the poisoned Urlitch, but to a middle-aged couple standing by the buffet table.  The woman seemed nervous, wringing her hands as she eyed the chaos.  The man stared directly at us, lifted a piece of food from his plate, and took a bite.

I scowled.  “What’s with him?”

“His core is… wrong,” Xavier replied.  “It doesn’t match him.  His movements are too precise, too perfect.  It almost looks like you, Cal, with that bronze core of yours.”

My eyes shot wide as I realized what he meant, my own iron body mismatched to the bronze setting of my false core.  I reached with my spiritual sense across the ballroom, to the fringes of most cultivators’ ranges but within easy reach of mine.  Sure enough, the man’s core didn’t sit quite right, far more energy twisting out of it and into the man’s body than a steel core should’ve produced.  It took several seconds longer to connect the presence of a steel—or higher—core to its natural conclusion.

“That’s your father, isn’t it?” Micaiah beat me to the punch.  “Why is he staring at us?”

“He wouldn’t be we got out of here,” Charlotte hissed.  “I’ll explain later.  Let’s move.”

I spared one last glance at Jean Jack Velereau before turning and following his daughter from the party’s twitching corpse.  We hastened through the ostentatious double doors, down the wide hallway, and stepped into the same departure lounge we’d first waited in.  With the lights all the way on, the music stopped, and the servants absent with their trays, the room somehow felt hostile in a way it hadn’t before, like it was pushing us to leave rather than linger.

Our transport hadn’t left.  We boarded it immediately.

“It’s later,” Micaiah said with a coldness to her voice as our vessel left the dock.  “Care to explain?”

“I can go into more detail once we’re aboard Lucy,” Charlotte answered.  When I can be sure nobody’s listening in, went unsaid.  “There are a lot of factors in play, but the most immediate is opportunism.  Already accusations are flying around in there, a good chunk of which will lead to honor duels.”

Micaiah exhaled dismissively.  “Honor duels?  What is this, the Fallen Age?”

“The threat of my father would probably have kept anyone from trying anything with me, but wearing Velereau colors on their own wouldn’t keep you two safe, and Lucy can only protect Cal so much when she’s all the way in the hangars.  Whether or not anyone believes you were involved in Austin’s death, if they act like they do they have the perfect justification to challenge you.”

“Why?” I asked.  “Xavier already throws around duel challenges like confetti.  What’s the point of a justification?”

“Two reasons,” Charlotte said.  “First, honor duels aren’t about skill, they’re about honor.  They’re fought until one side is unable to fight any longer, usually by way of dismemberment, or, rarely, death.  That makes them an effective tool to weaken or eliminate a rival.  Second, honor duels can be between cultivators of different advancements.”

“It’s an excuse for cultivators to maim or kill people weaker than them.”  Micaiah’s voice dripped with disdain.  “I wasn’t aware the sects had stooped so low as to continue the practice.”

Charlotte sighed.  “In theory it’s the only real way to pursue justice in a system so bogged down in politics.  In practice, it’s just another arm of those same politics at work.  It would do all of you good to lay low for a few days until the three houses can agree on what happened tonight.”

“Can agree?”  I tossed my head back, laying it atop the headrest and staring at the ceiling.  “Of course the truth is just a matter of politics.”

“Are you sure there’s no chance they’ll decide it’s politically expedient for one of us to have killed him?” Micaiah asked.

“I’m not sure of anything.  The landscape has shifted in the years I’ve been gone, and I’ve had less than two days to get a grasp on it.  Usually when this happens there’s a bunch of backroom dealing to decide which inconvenient black sheep takes the fall.  You’re all too new to the ecosystem to be worth eliminating yet, not when you could still be leveraged or won over or otherwise converted into an asset.”

“Usually?”  I rubbed at the bridge of my nose.  “How often does this happen?”

“Every few years or so.”

I gaped at her.  From my left, I could practically feel Micaiah doing the same.

Charlotte rolled her eyes.  “I told you this place was dangerous.”  Her eyes flashed to Xavier.  “Maybe now you’ll listen when I tell you to stay put—”  She looked back to me—  “Or avoid antagonizing people?”

“Yes, ma’am.”  I saluted her, only half sarcastically.  “I fully intend this to be the last sect party I ever attend.  Threads, unless they come looking for me, I should be able to avoid sect members entirely.  Lucy isn’t exactly going to let any aboard, and I doubt any of them would stoop so low as to set foot anywhere that mortals live and work.”

“Lucky,” Micaiah muttered.  “Some of us have to live next to these people.”

“Some of us are related to them,” Charlotte said with a cold voice and a colder look.  “As long as you keep your head down and avoid making a nuisance of yourself, you’ll be fine.”

“Don’t get too envious,” I added wryly.  “You all may have to deal with politics, but I get to reckon with something just about as soul crushing: the forty-hour work week.”

Weirdly, Micaiah was the only one to laugh.

Charlotte didn’t find it funny.  “You signed up for that, Cal, and for a reason I’ve yet to figure out.  Threads, people are going to think you’re trying to sabotage the enchantments or something.”

Xavier spoke up.  “Cal’s Way requires what it requires.  If remaining in touch with mortal life is what allows him to reach for greater peaks, who are we to question it?”

I blinked.  “I… wouldn’t go that far.  Really, what else am I going to do all day?  On Fyrion I had classes, and on Ilirian we were out hunting, but here?  There’s nothing.  Besides, I have no money.  Last I checked there was really only one way to convert time into money.  This way I get to spend time outside without raising the wrong questions, and maybe for once I can feel like a normal human being again.”

Charlotte flashed me a warning glance, reminding me I’d tread dangerously close to revealing something I shouldn’t in a place there might be listeners.  None of us believed for a second one house or another hadn’t managed to bug our transport.  I rolled my eyes at her, confident I’d kept it vague enough.

The conversation faded as a sense of quiet unease overtook the transport, the weight of the death we’d just seen alongside the reminder of the dangers of this place made for a potent mood dampener.  The rest of the ride back passed quickly enough.  Jeremy wasn’t there to greet us, so silence reigned all the way to Lucy’s gangplank.

“What happened?”  Lucy read the dourness on our faces with ease.

“Austin Urlitch is dead,” I put it plainly.

“The young man who was so rude yesterday?  That’s a shame.  They don’t think you’re involved, do they?”

“We were just talking about that,” I replied as we walked along the upper deck.  “We don’t think so, but apparently there’s a whole process where they figure out who’s the most politically expedient culprit.”

Charlotte, who’d yet to speak through the exchange, waited all the way until the door to Lucy’s soulspace closed behind us, severing us completely from the same plane of reality as anyone who might dare eavesdrop, before saying anything.

“My father’s behind it.”  Not an ounce of uncertainty reached her voice.

Micaiah’s brows shot up.  “He told you this?”

“He told everyone this.  You don’t kill someone in the middle of a crowded ballroom for any reason other than to send a message.  His came through loud and clear.”

I shared a look with Micaiah before turning back to Charlotte.  “Care to explain?”

“He used the same poison Cassie’s assassin tried to use on me.  Anyone informed enough to know what happened then will know what happened tonight.  Austin’s death was retaliation.”

“But Austin had nothing to do with it, right?” Xavier asked.  “Why would your father murder an innocent rather than pursue justice against the real perpetrator?”

“A number of reasons.  He couldn’t just—”  Charlotte cut herself off.  “You know what?  I’m going to sit.”  She stepped past us to stride down the hallway we’d crowded into.  We followed her into the dining room and joined her at the table.

“First and foremost,” she explained, “steel cultivators are a lot harder to kill than titanium ones.  My father would be hard pressed to kill Cassie Urlitch, let alone any assassin or poison he could get his hands on.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” Xavier chimed.

Charlotte blinked at him.  “What?”

“Xavier's right,” I agreed.  “He hides it well, but I don’t think your father’s steel anymore.  There’s too much qi flowing through him for a steel core to produce.  We both noticed it.”

“Shit.”

“Language,” Lucy chided.

“Sorry, Lucy, but this calls for it,” Charlotte said.  “Shit,” she reiterated.  “That explains why he was bold enough to move against Urlitch so blatantly.  Cassie’s tied pretty closely to Sect Master Morris.  She’ll be leveraging him to take action.  Cassie must’ve grown enough of a threat to her sister that father thinks he can drive a wedge between them.  If Orlund Morris takes Cassie’s side here but Darla doesn’t, House Urlitch could fracture.  It’s exactly the kind of opportunity a secretly tungsten cultivator could take advantage of.”

I took a sip of the glass of water which—along with its requisite coaster—had appeared on the table.  “Is this necessarily a bad thing?  I know your dad’s a piece of work, but he is ostensibly on our side.  Threads, you all showed up in Velereau colors tonight.”

“The scheme isn’t the problem.  The chaos is.  I can assure you Austin Urlitch will not be the last to die over this, and as a prominent member of House Velereau, I’m well within the line of fire.  With any luck Lucy’s support combined with the fact I haven’t been here these past few years will keep attention off me until House Urlitch goes to war with itself and Cassie has bigger things to worry about, but I won’t be leaving the Velereau estate until that happens.”

Her eye scanned between me and Xavier.  “Even worse, if you two are right, I guarantee my father’s ambitions don’t end with House Urlitch.  If he’s reached tungsten, that puts him within striking distance of Orlund Morris.  Urlitch is easy.  The three sisters have always been something of a powder keg, but House Morris is united.”

Micaiah furrowed her brow.  “You got all that from a type of poison and a cultivation advancement?”

Charlotte sighed.  “You’re right.  It’s not enough.  For all we know he expects us to play a part in whatever plan he has to take on the sect master.  I’ll find out what I can, but don’t expect much.”

“You can’t just… ask him?” I tried.

She snorted.  “As if he would tell me.”  She shook her head.  “Look, things may be about to get crazy around here.  Lay low.  Don’t draw attention to yourselves.  You’re all in good positions to stay mostly neutral during whatever’s about to happen.  Please don’t do anything to ruin that.”

Xavier leaned on the table with his fist.  “I can’t stand idly by while you face peril alone.”

“But you can trust me.  I grew up here, remember.  I know what I’m doing.”  She pushed herself to her feet.  “We should get back.  It won’t look good if we’re seen to be hiding aboard Lucy at the first sign of trouble.”

“Are you sure you can’t stay for a night?” I asked, forcefully keeping my eyes from looking over to Micaiah.  “It’s the safest place on the station.”

“Nothing will happen tonight.  Planning reactions to this type of attack takes time.  It’s best we carry on like nothing happened; it’ll help sell the idea that we weren’t involved.”  At her withering glare, the others stood too.  With a breath I followed suit.

“Remember what I said,” Charlotte restated as she stopped near the exit to Lucy’s soulspace.  “This wasn’t an isolated incident, and things will only get more fraught from here.”

I nodded.  “Stay safe.”

Charlotte gave a tired smile.  “I’ll do what I can.”

The door closed behind them, and I pushed down the wave of guilt that arose from watching the three people I cared about most in the world wade back into the viper’s pit as I stayed safe and warm by Lucy’s hearth.  I hoped Charlotte was wrong.  I wished she was wrong.

But I hadn’t had the greatest track record with wanting others to be wrong lately, and more so than even the sight of Austin’s face gone purple and still, the memory of Jean Jack Velereau staring at us from across the ballroom, his core roiling with power beyond its apparent level, disquieted me.

Whatever he was planning, it’d only just begun.

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