Wish upon the Stars chapter 1063

“So, who are we supposed to talk to now?” I asked Bernadette as she, Dayna, and I sipped hot chocolate in the priory library. “You mentioned a contact who could help, right? Who might that be?” I didn’t understand much about the arrangement of the Lady’s forces, even at this point. I knew Bernadette was a nun and in the Order of Mercy, but I didn’t know if she was part of a subfaction, or if the whole order was a religious organization.

Given the actual goddess involved, there was a decent chance, but I wasn’t going to assume anything going into this. In order to give us the best chance at completing our mission, I had to be as flexible as possible.

“There’s a…place,” she said vaguely. “Where I used to go. I have a friend there. He’s got quite a bit of influence in certain circles.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So…he’s a criminal?” 

“What?” she asked in a high pitched voice. “That’s crazy, why would you ask something like that?”

“Because whenever people are really vague about things like this they’re always talking about something illegal,” I said bluntly. “Which to be clear I absolutely DO NOT care about. This isn’t my world, I have zero regard for the laws here. But I just wanted to be open about it because it seems like it would save us a lot of time not having to dance around the obvious.”

She gave me a flat look. “It is considered good manners,” she said haughtily. “To leave some things unspoken.”

“I don’t really have time for good manners,” I said apologetically. “Like I’m not going to be a dick for no reason, but I’m trying to stop a war so politics kind of need to be kept to a minimum, at least needless ones.” Dayna glared at me, and I cleared my throat. “But hey, thanks again for helping us out with this. Super grateful.”

That got a sharp laugh from her. “I forgot how blunt you can be. You’re lucky I prefer people who are up front.” She sighed, standing up. “But fine, you’re right. No time for niceties. Let’s head out. I want to be back before the children wake up later.” She looked us over with a pensive look. “Can’t have you running around like that though, one moment.”

She left, returning a minute later with a pair of large cloaks. “Here, put these on.”

We did, and I blinked in surprise at the B-ranked cloaks. They didn’t feel like they were really DOING anything, they were just…B-rank. I cocked my head at Bernadette. “These are interesting. What exactly are they?”

“Substitution smocks,” she said with a chuckle. “There are many methods of disguise in the Void, but equally numerous methods of piercing concealment. There was kind of a Perception arms race for a few centuries a millennia back, until someone invented THESE. They’re a unique answer to the problem of concealment. Anonymity through obviousness. The smocks are designed with a special enchantment that amplifies Impact and presence. Not for any useful purpose, but just to make it as loud and obvious as possible.”

My eyes widened. “So anyone who looks at us will see the smock and not the person under it. If everyone wears these…”

“Yup,” she said brightly. “They’re standard issue. Everyone in the city with any real influence has one. They’re only nominally B-rank, so they’re not much of a strain even for D-rankers, and they don’t really DO anything except be loud and obvious, so they’re relatively cheap for such a powerful item. Go ahead and put them on.”

We did, and I was surprised how little trouble I had using them. With a Domain, I didn’t expect to be unable to bear the weight, especially since my staff was B-rank, but I’d figured I’d at least FEEL it. This felt like basically nothing though.

Once we had the cloaks on, Bernadette nodded with satisfaction and gestured for us to follow. “Stick close, this is a long trip, and the route is treacherous.”

She turned and led us out of the priory. We followed close behind, which was good, because she hadn’t been kidding about the route. Bernadette took off at a brisk walk, almost a jog, heading down the street and vanishing into an alley. We kept up because of her warning, but I was surprised by how skillfully she navigated the area.

At the end of the alley, she ducked under a low hanging outcropping, headed down a flight of stairs and down a second alley, then walked a hundred feet south before stopping at a storm drain. She reached down, grabbed the bars, and hauled up and out before twisting and pushing the drain back in. The whole facade collapsed inward, unfolding into a set of metal spiral stairs. She descended them quickly, not looking back, and we followed her down.

Once we reached the bottom, a quick kick retracted the steps and they snapped back up into a storm drain shape and reset themselves. Then she led us through the storm drain system, along winding paths marked with guttering candles and complicated painted symbols. Finally, we came to a door.

She knocked four times, then two, then waited and tapped out a series of seven beats. There was a long pause and the door opened a crack. She nodded to the eye that peered out. “I’m here to talk to Wesley.”

The man grunted, shutting the door and then unfastening a chain before opening it back up and gesturing us in.

We stepped inside, and I was intrigued to find that we were standing in a pub. Or rather, something LIKE a pub. It was a sewer platform, surrounded by pools of semi stagnant water only interrupted by waterfalls of filthy liquid. The water was all lurid green, but if didn’t smell like anything, which I assumed was some kind of enchantment.

The tables along the platform were old and worn, hammered together from driftwood by the looks of it, as was the large bar at the far end, with a weathered sign above it reading “The Prisoner’s Chance”.

As soon as we stepped inside, everything stopped. Literally. Not like people went quiet, not like they put down their drinks. They STOPPED. Froze on the spot like they were mice being watched by a hungry snake. Bernadette looked around at them coldly. “Where is he?” It took a moment, but a few of them pointed to the far end of the platform, nearest the bar. A small table with only a single occupant sitting at it, shuffling a deck of cards.

Bernadette sat down across from the man. “Hello Wes,” she said softly. “It’s been a while.”

He continued to shuffle, not looking up. “Hello Bernie. Ninety years or so, since I last saw your face. Here for a favor, I take it?”

“I couldn’t just be here because I missed you?” she asked sweetly. He just kept shuffling.”Alright fine,” she pouted. “Yes. I need a favor. But it’s not just for me. It’s important. Will you hear me out at least?”

He started laying out the cards. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “Let’s find out. Flip one.”

Bernadette sighed. “Do we need to do this?” He just stared at her, face impassive. She reached for a card, but I caught her hand. 

“No,” I said suddenly. “That one,” I nodded to the one all the way to the left of the row of five. She raised an eyebrow but shrugged, reaching to flip it over. The image on the card showed a young man, merrily prancing down a road, holding a flower in one hand a stick with a bindle on it over the other. 

“The Fool,” she said thoughtfully.

“Well now,” said Wesley. “Isn’t that INTERESTING? The Fool symbolizes new beginnings, and taking a leap of faith. A destiny approached with optimism and conviction for a better tomorrow. What a fortuitous selection.” He snatched up the card, along with all the others, and began shuffling again. “The cards have spoken, I suppose. Say your piece, Bernie.”

She looked around. “Could we get some privacy?” she asked quietly. “This is sensitive.”

He smiled, then rifled through the deck. Picking out a card, he slapped it down on the table. “The World,” he intoned with gravitas. There was a sort of…weight, and the image of a planet superimposed itself on the space around us, sealing the nearby area. He nodded. “We won’t be overheard,” he promised. “You may proceed.”

She shot a look at me, clearly unsure how much to say. I decided to take over. “My name is Shane Wyndham,” I told him bluntly. “I’m a diplomat representing the Wish Curse Palace. I’m here to propose a treaty that might end the war, but the Void beat us here. We need to get in to see the Lady without alerting them.” I shared my name, but not my position. I doubted he knew who I was at this point, and even if he HAD heard my name, Shane wasn’t exactly a unique thing to be called.

He blinked at me curiously. “Are you?” he asked with interest. Flipping through the deck, he dropped another card. “Justice,” he said authoritatively. “Now, say that again.” I repeated myself, and the image on the card, a woman with a blindfold, held up a pair of scales. The scales rocked back and forth for a moment, weighing a heart on one side and a feather on the other, but eventually the feather descended, leaving the heart up high.

“So you are,” he said jovially. “Good intentions. Not the be all end all, but certainly they don’t hurt.”

He hummed, staring at me for a moment, then pulled out another card and set it down. “Wheel of Fortune,” he announced grandly. On the card, the image of a wheel began to spin. It whirled faster and faster, spinning so quickly the picture blurred, until, eventually, it slowed down and then stopped. He studied the symbols on the wheel, which I couldn’t make heads or tails of, and nodded inscrutably.

“Alright,” he said finally. “The cards say it's a risk worth taking. I’ll get you a meeting. It won’t be immediate, though. Not if you want to avoid the emissary. I know about their visit, and the Lady is entertaining them personally. It’ll be three more nights before I can find an opening to get you in to see her.”

Bernadette sighed tiredly. “And let me guess, before that time comes, you have a quick errand you need us to run.”

He grinned at her. “You DO still know me. Yes. But it’s nothing nefarious. I had a slight disagreement with a member of a rival faction, and one of my cards just happened to wind up planted in his home. It destroyed it, in fact, but the lucky b- I mean poor unfortunate soul wasn’t home for some reason. He found the card and squirreled it away to use as evidence in a case he’s trying to build against me. For obvious reasons, I don’t prefer that come to pass.”

I sighed. Why did everyone I wanted something from ask me to STEAL something for them? Did I just have a thief face? Well, I wore a blank wooden mask, so maybe that WAS the problem. Either way, this wasn’t too objectionable. The card was his, after all, even if he’d apparently used it to try to assassinate a guy. It hadn’t worked anyway, so I wasn’t feeling too conflicted about getting it back for him. I was sure he had other cards that could do the same thing anyway, they seemed versatile.

Bernadette snorted, seeing me nod my subtle agreement. “Fine, we’ll get the card back for you, but you better hold up your end.”

“Oh, Bernie,” he said sadly. “I’ve never broken my vows to you. Not even once.” I blinked at the phrasing, reading into it a not inconsiderable amount, but it got no response. Bernadette, apparently, had nothing to say to that.