“Not all,” Ollas said. “Some of the assistants are from the university, and there are a few grad students around here doing real work. But Treen and Aylton, no. We don’t know how many are under the Coalition’s thumb, by choice or force.”
“Why haven’t they gone to the authorities? Involved Central?” Calya asked.
“Lot of ships coming in not flying flags,” Zhenya said, an uncharacteristically hard edge coming into her voice. “The capital’s been dead to the Landing for a century at least. They operate… differently, out here.”
A reality the Coalition would happily exploit as it suited them.
“How do you know Froley?” Calya asked.
Zhenya ducked her head. “I studied abroad out here during Initiate levels, and helped them with some… stuff.”
Eunny snapped her fingers at Calya. “Focus. What do we do next?”
Anadae leaned forward, gaze intent. “What did you find in the desk?”
Calya withdrew the discarded note from her cloak pocket and spread it on the table.
“‘Lady S’ is probably my mother,” Eunny said.
Lowe held the paper close to his face, eyes narrowing.
“What is it?” Calya asked.
“The mage who contacted us was named Matthias.”
“Same handwriting?”
Lowe shrugged. “It’s been a long time, and I only saw the letters once or twice, but it seems likely.”
“Okay, so we try to find out more on this Matthias guy,” Eunny said.
“Lily, the assistant that showed us around when we were storing the tea,” Ollas murmured, setting another scrap of paper on the table next to Calya’s find, “she mentioned previous trials done at the different sites. Drew me a map.”
“When?” Eunny asked. “I didn’t?—”
“She waited until you were helping Zhen,” Ollas said soothingly. “I think she was spooked by your relation?—”
“Yeah, I get it.” Eunny slumped back in her chair, lip curling. “We should split up again.”
“Froley said there’s a village south, toward the southern forest,” Zhenya said. “They’ve had a bad time lately with illnesses. Asked if we could look in on them.”
“Sounds like our thing,” Eunny said, nudging Ollas. “We won’t need to refresh the tea container charms for a few days.”
Anadae examined the map, fingers roving over the dots indicating sites in the surrounding area. She pointed at one to Ezzyn, who nodded. “We’ll take this one,” he said, tapping a spot farther out toward Graelynd’s Hook. “There’s another SU cohort stationed out that way, doing restorative work on the coast. I know the team lead.”
Calya pointed out another dot on the map. “This one looks close. I’ll— We’ll ask around.” She nodded at Lowe.
As they stood up, preparing to go their separate ways, Ezzyn added in a low voice, “Be vigilant, everyone. Eren Galwynd is a Rhellian grovetender who’s spent the years since the war doing restorative work back home.” He looked around at all of them, expression grave. “He shouldn’t be here at all, much less helping to run a Coalition project.”
“For the mundane among us, which I suppose is only me,” Calya said grumpily, “what exactly should I be looking for?”
“You’ll know,” Ezzyn said, tone dark. “If you do, find me. No discussion.”
The group separated, Anadae tugging her dour-faced prince back toward the patisserie case while Eunny, Ollas, and Zhenya went back outside. Snippets of conversation floated back to Calya as she and Lowe strolled after them, with words like “greenhouse” and “dirt” and “it’s soil, love” punctuated by Eunny’s long-suffering groan.
Despite it being early evening, the dark of winter had settled while the group met. Lamps lit the street, and Calya smothered a yawn behind her hand as exhaustion crept up on her.
“Find him, he says. So he can burn everything to a crisp.” She yawned again. “Not to sound like an old lady, but?—”
