Chapter 15: The First Move
Caelus closed the final notebook and leaned back in his chair.
His head hurt.
Discovering that you had forgotten half the world you created was a particularly effective way to ruin an afternoon.
He had filled several notebooks with everything he’d recovered from the Vespera Archive.
It still wasn’t enough.
But staring at another book wasn’t going to make the missing pieces magically appear.
He considered going Aldric and ask for the compensation.
Explain where he was going and why.
Probably answer a few questions he didn’t feel like answering.
Caelus sighed.
Some battles were worth fighting.
This one wasn’t.
He needed the Eclipse Ring, not another conversation with his father. If the money wasn’t available, he’d find another way.
He needed the Eclipse Ring, not another conversation with his father. If the money wasn’t available, he’d find another way.
He gathered his notes and slipped them into the handbag he’d brought with him. As he did, his eyes caught on a page covered in notes about House Sylvaris.
Elysia’s face briefly crossed his mind.
He frowned.
Another problem he didn’t have time to deal with.
Fortunately, she wasn’t trying to kill him.
Probably.
He gave the page one last glance before tucking it away with the others.
Then he left the library.
Mira was waiting in the corridor. She straightened when she saw him, her professional mask firmly in place. Her eyes flickered to the handbag, then back to his face.
"Young Master. The carriage is ready."
Caelus nodded. "Good."
He walked beside Mira through the familiar corridors, barely looking at the portraits this time.
He’d spent enough of his life wondering what the people in those paintings thought of him.
"The coachman has been waiting." Mira said quietly.
"Good," he repeated.
They reached the family gate. A carriage was already waiting, dark wood, reinforced wheels, the Vespera crest emblazoned on the side. The coachman stood at attention.
Caelus stopped and turned to Mira.
"Mira, stay here."
Her expression shifted immediately. The professional mask cracked. Unease flickered across her face. Then confusion. Then horror.
"Young Master—"
"Stay here."
Her brows tightened. "What do you mean?"
"Exactly what I said."
"I’m your personal attendant. I’m supposed to accompany you."
"Mira."
She stopped.
"I’m going to come back safe. And you won’t be blamed for it."
Her jaw tightened. Her hands clenched at her sides. "Where are you going?"
"Somewhere you can’t help me."
"That’s not—"
"If you come with me, I’ll have to worry about you too."
Mira’s expression tightened.
"I can take care of myself."
"I know."
He looked at her.
"That’s not the problem."
The words hung in the air. She stared at him, trying to find an argument, trying to find a way to refuse. She couldn’t. But she didn’t accept it either.
"Young Master—"
"If you do this," he said, "I’ll allow you to accompany me to the academy."
Caelus watched the gears turn behind her eyes.
She wanted to come.
She also knew exactly what he was doing.
"You’re using the academy against me."
"I’m offering you an incentive."
"That’s the same thing."
"Then we’re both aware of the arrangement."
She stared at him.
"...Deal."
Caelus turned toward the carriage.
He paused at the carriage door, house Vespera rose behind him.
Then—
"Young Master."
Caelus turned.
Alexander stood several steps away, hands folded neatly behind his back.
The head butler had always been difficult to read. He was one of the few people in House Vespera who could stand beside his father without looking remotely intimidated.
Caelus had never asked how strong he was.
He’d never been stupid enough to need the answer.
He smiled faintly. "What is it, Alexander?"
Alexander studied him for a moment.
Then he smiled.
"You’ve grown."
Caelus raised an eyebrow.
That was an unusually vague thing for Alexander to say.
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
Alexander’s smile widened slightly.
"Perhaps."
He extended his hand.
Caelus stared at it. "What is this?"
"A storage ring." Alexander paused. "The Patriarch ordered me to give it to you. Along with the money."
Caelus stared at the ring.
Aldric had sent it.
The timing was almost irritating.
He had spent the last several minutes convincing himself that asking his father for the Church’s compensation wasn’t worth the trouble, only for the man to send the money to him without being asked.
Either Aldric had anticipated what he needed, or he had been paying considerably more attention than Caelus thought.
Neither possibility was particularly comforting.
Caelus took the ring. His fingers closed around the cool metal. "Did he say anything?"
Alexander shook his head.
"No, Young Master." He bowed.
"I wish you a good journey." Then he turned and walked back toward the manor.
Caelus watched him go.
Sighing heavily won’t do him any good. But he did it anyway.
I need a vacation.
He equipped the ring. It settled onto his finger. It was light and comfortable.
He injected mana into it, feeling the storage space unfold inside his perception. Roughly one cubic meter. Adequate.
Not impressive, but enough for now.
He moved the handbag into the storage space, along with the notebooks and records he’d spent hours compiling.
Better.
If anyone searched his room now, they would find nothing capable of exposing what he knew.
That alone made the ring worth having.
He stepped into the carriage. "South, Belarus district." he told the coachman.
The carriage began moving. House Vespera slowly receded behind him. The spires grew smaller. The walls grew distant. The family that had never acknowledged him faded into the background.
Caelus leaned back against the seat.
His destination was the Temple of the Moon, and beneath it was an obscured labyrinth.
He remembered the labyrinth.
That was the problem.
He remembered what was hidden inside, even remembered that the villain eventually found it.
What he couldn’t remember was when, or who found it first.
He had never expected those details to matter.
Back then, they were just pieces of a story.
Now they could mean the difference between finding the labyrinth first and walking into an ambush prepared by someone who was supposed to discover it years later.
I never bothered deciding who got there first.
He wasn’t waiting for the story to catch up anymore.
He was going to get there first.
For once, the plot could try keeping up with him.
But he couldn’t enter the labyrinth alone.
His current strength was impressive only if the competition was an unusually aggressive housecat.
He needed mercenaries. People who could fight, scout, carry things, and preferably resist the urge to ask why a Vespera heir was suddenly interested in an obscure labyrinth.
Which created another problem.
Money.
The church’s compensation was enough to get him started, but not enough to build an expedition from scratch.
And there was no chance he was walking into the Black Market dressed like a Vespera and announcing himself.
He needed a different identity.
Connections.
Information.
Preferably people with flexible morals and no interest in reporting him to the authorities.
Fortunately, there was one place where all of those things could be bought.
The Black Market. He wasn’t sure exactly where the entrance was. He’d written about it, but he’d never needed to describe the location in detail. It had been a setting, not a plot point. He’d have to find it.
Time to make my knowledge pay.
The carriage rumbled southward. The city grew closer, the streets grew busier, and the noise filtered through the windows.