"Well? What did they say?"
Henry and Jessamine were meeting with Hope Masterson prior to dinner.
"They accepted me into their research group," Hope replied. "Honestly, they didn't even seem surprised by it. I think they already knew why I was there."
"Can I help you?" Caspian had asked as Hope approached his group in one of the training arenas. "We've reserved this space, so if you're asking to use it, please speak to the faculty."
"Ah—no, that's not it," Hope had replied. "I'm actually here about joining your research group."
"Oh?"
"Yes… one of my professors mentioned it the other day, see, and I was interested. I'm looking for a research group, so I figured I'd take the opportunity and ask."
"Hey, Lance! Gwen!" called Caspian, garnering the attention of the two students currently engaged in testing a magical device. "Can you come over here for a second?"
"Sure!" they had replied, setting down their gear and removing their safety goggles.
It had looked like they were testing a form of shield generator.
"She wants to join our group," said Caspian, gesturing to Hope. "What do you guys think? I'm thinking it's okay."
"Yeah, I agree," said Lance. "She looks capable."
Gwen hesitated, but said: "I have no objection."
Caspian narrowed his eyes, yet didn't comment on Gwen's behavior.
"Well, you heard them," Caspian finished. "Welcome to Research Group Epsilon."
"Wait, seriously?" asked Jessamine incredulously. "Well, there goes any hope of discretion in this matter. We'll go along with it. If they ask, don't hide your intentions, and try to build up the Societie's reputation if you can."
"Are you sure about that, Jess?" asked Henry. "I get the feeling intimidation won't work on them."
"It's not about intimidation, it's about misdirection," Jessamine replied. "Let's assume they know Hope is a member of the Societie and is most likely a spy. They accepted her application without reservation; they're saying that they don't have anything to hide from us. If they then confront Hope about her identity and she tries to talk down to them, they'll involuntarily form an incorrect opinion of her character and abilities."
"…and I could take advantage of that incorrect opinion to gather information," said Hope. "Jess, you really are on another level, you know that?"
"There's a reason I leave our clandestine activities to her," admitted Henry. "I didn't think that far ahead."
Jessamine blushed.
"Guys—if you had been raised in my family—well, this is nothing special."
"Be that as it may, you are a credit to this Societie, Ms. di Cadenza," said Henry. "So, Hope, they accepted you on-the-spot. Have you made any progress since then?"
"They invited me to take a look at their current area of research," said Hope. "Non-conventional magic-accelerated warfare, that's what they said. Apparently their goal is to come up with innovative uses of existing magical technology, rather than attempting to create something themselves. That being said…"
Hope looked around to make sure no one was listening.
"…they had access to some pretty advanced tech, things that you wouldn't usually find here."
This development piqued Jessamine's interest.
I wonder if she was able to find out about the Aura Shroud device…
…I don't even know what it would look like, so I can't help her find it.
"What kind of tech, Hope?"
She looked around again, before whispering:
"They demonstrated a new type of magic ammunition, for one. A bullet that teleports the user to the point of impact."
Jessamine and Henry were stunned: teleportation was a powerful Master-level spell that only those magicians with high synchronicity could cast, and the runic representation of the spell had not yet been made available to researchers.
"Where did they get that rune, Hope?" Jessamine asked, her voice heavy and serious.
Hope shook her head.
"They wouldn't tell me," she replied. "They said Caspian got it from a friend. I'm pretty sure they were lying."
A teleportation bullet, thought Jessamine. That's an absurdly-valuable invention, on the same level as the hypothetical Aura Shroud.
Caspian Dawson must be a genius.
If he's that smart, then why didn't he win the duel against Elisabeth Blackstone?
He must not want to draw attention to himself.
He's keeping the Aura Shroud and teleportation bullets secret, so he must not want to be famous. He must've shown those bullets to Hope because he knew we were investigating him.
That still doesn't feel quite right, but it's the best explanation I've got.
"What do you want to do about this, Jess?" asked Henry in hushed tones. "I've dealt with state secrets before and this has a similar feel to it. We need to tread carefully."
"I-I agree," said Jessamine, taking a moment to compose herself. "Thank you for your report, Hope, you've given us a lot to think about. For the moment, please continue to observe and report back."
"Yes, ma'am. If you don't mind, I'll take my leave now."
"Very good. And, thank you, Ms. Masterson," said Henry.
There's only one thing to do.
"We need to talk to Mr. Dawson," Jessamine continued, and Henry nodded his agreement. "It was a mistake to let him slip through our fingers."
"I don't think we did, Jess. Remember the counter-magic he used during the duel? I think this is the path he chose. We're the ones in his grasp, not the other way around."
It was a terrifying thought, and Jessamine shivered.
"I was trying to avoid coming to that conclusion," she said. "But, yes, I think you're right."
***
In a small, empty building in the harbor of Avalonne-du-Prix stood Elisabeth Blackstone, patiently waiting for the audience for her next performance. The time and place had been specified by Callum, the spy she had singled out and approached, and her audience would be the leaders of the clandestine organization operating within the Academy.
Presently, they arrived. The fifteen young men and women encircled Elisabeth, satisfactorily hiding their fear and dread of her presence, until one among them spoke up.
"Welcome, Ms. Blackstone," he said. "Forgive me for not introducing myself, but I'm afraid you have not yet earned our trust. We are intrigued, however, by your offer of collaboration, and would like to hear more of what you have in mind.
Elisabeth smiled; the agents could've sworn a gust of cold wind blew through the still room.
"Oh, there's no need to introduce yourself, Mr. DuPont," she replied. "We've never met, but I recognize you from your past dealings with my family. You've never worked for us directly, of course, but one of the organizations we manage once engaged you for a corporate espionage gig. I believe it paid rather handsomely, did it not?"
The group's collective tension, barely perceptible at first, now filled the room.
"And you, Ms. Alexander, I recognize from a long con that we arranged to fall into your hands. My, my, now that was a fun job to watch. I very much enjoyed the moment when your now-ex husband woke up to find that you had fled with his life savings. Truly, the pièce de résistance."
Elisabeth made a show of surveying the room.
"Well now, it does seem that most of us work in the same industry," she said, exaggerating her smile. "And yet I feel like I'm late to the party! Of course, it would've been easier if I had received an invitation…"
Her subtext was clear, but no one was brave enough to speak up.
"But that's in the past," she continued. "Let's talk about your future, shall we?"
Pierre DuPont tried to swallow his sudden anxiety to prevent it from showing on his face.
It didn't work.
This was a mistake, he realized.
"You have, what, fifteen people? Twenty, at most? That's a decent percentage of the incoming class, and certainly enough to manipulate a crowd into forming a riot—but Avalonne-du-Prix is not the right stage for insurgency. This is an infiltration, a preparation for a larger operation to come."
She glanced around the room again, reading the faces of the conspirators.
"Please, correct me if I'm wrong. The Academy has been chosen as the lynchpin of this upcoming operation, correct? And the handful of you are expected to carry it out. No wonder you're silent, you must be terrified, poor things. Fifteen first-year magicians against the might of Camelot? It's a suicide mission."
The faces around her confirmed Elisabeth's suspicions.
"Well, it's a good thing I'm here," she said. "You wanted to know more about my offer, right, Pierre?"
He nodded hesitantly.
"My offer is this: I will supply operatives from the Blackstone family, enough to carry out this operation without a single casualty."
"A-and…Ms. Blackstone—what price would you set on such aid?"
Elisabeth's eyes gleamed with malice in the darkness.
"You'll find out when it's over."
The gathered agents exchanged nervous glances.
Even though Elisabeth had framed her proposal as an offer, everyone present could see it for what it truly was: an order. They had neither the right nor the ability to refuse, and attempting to do so would surely result in their deaths.
Pierre DuPont cleared his throat.
"Well—Ms. Blackstone—we would, first, like to apologize for your delayed invitation to this coalition," he began. "And as for your deal…"
He took one more look at his comrades.
"…we accept."
I sure hope this is worth it.
I fear this deal will backfire, but we have no other choice.