Rexi and Talon

By Onyx Tao

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24. Rexi

Rexi listened carefully to the conversation between Master Zackton and General Mordoth, safely out of view in the small cupboard just off the servant's back entrance to the music room. The cupboard was lacking a mirror, of course. One wouldn't have a mirror in a cupboard to begin with, but Rexi had started checking for mirrors everywhere. He wasn't certain just what was lurking on the other side of some (and perhaps all) of the mirrors of the house, but he was certain enough that he wanted to avoid its attention. The cupboard, after moving a strategically placed wood backing, offered a limited view into the room from which Rexi could see General Mordoth. Talon's leg was between him and Zackton, but then one couldn't have everything. Rexi was even quite comfortable, given that the cupboard had been carefully upholstered, and there was a small ledge that was suspiciously like a writing desk, although ... Rexi had no desire to commit anything about Master Zackton to paper and ink.

He'd long since decided that writing down anything regarding Master Zackton should be done only with the most day-to-day trivialities. Shopping lists. The house journals. Menus. Housekeeping. Listening to the General and Master Zackton, Rexi decided that keeping track of the House's visitors might be too much. He'd simplify it. General Mordoth would simply be an afternoon caller, bfast pasties. Of course, he didn't want to call attention ... simple enough. He'd give Loomis detailed instructions about what to record - and what not to record - and give over that part of the bookkeeping to him. The change in style would correspond to a change in hand, and there would be - could be - nothing out of the ordinary about that.

Rexi found that the cavalier way Zackton had dealt with the General's family matters surprised him not at all - which itself was a little surprising. He'd long since realized that Zackton was unusual, but then the half-orc had been so far beyond any of Rexi's experience that the truly unusual things had slipped by his notice. And Sassy's notice. It was only Harald who had really thought Zackton was odd above and beyond all the other oddnesses, and Rexi, he admitted to himself, had been at first too overwhelmed with all the new details to see to and master to winnow out the important ones.

But Zackton had given him a free hand, and a free purse, and the initial twenty-eight family had now grown to nearly forty-three, most of whom were not just family, but Family, of some degree, and the remainder were on probation but Rexi hoped to induct them all. The halfling had no problem arranging accidents, but he didn't care to arrange them for other halflings.

If he just knew what Zackton was really after! He was serious about the opera, that much was obvious, and the Navy Grand Memorial Theater was a fine project. Not only did it provide any number of excuses to send halflings anywhere in the city, Rexi had seeded the theater staff with a few Family members, but the majority of the halflings there were ... not ... candidates for the Family. Good folks, dedicated and willing and all that nonsense, but not the caliber or with the right inclinations to join Rexi's Family.

Although Rexi had added a number of features to the theater redesign that his Family could use to their advantage. A little forethought could create tremendous opportunities in the future. If there were a future. And that depended entirely on whatever Zackton was after. Rexi was no closer to unraveling that mystery than he'd been when Zackton had first sprung his "art survey" project on him. Maybe a little closer. Zackton was looking for a group of eight statues that had graced the original Rose Pavilion in the gardens, and had, in the intervening years, disappeared.

Presumably, those statues held the secret, whatever it was. History was hard to come by, being considered a State franchise these days, and pre-Thrune history particularly difficult to get. The Throne and the Asmodean Church seemed to consider history to have started with the ascension of Abrogail I to the crown, and even the messy civil war that had preceded the Thrune Reign was not something for discussion, or debate, or for anyone at all. Books on history had a way of vanishing into the keeping of the Asmodean Church or one of the Hellknight orders - assuming that they kept the books rather than consign them to the fires. Within Cheliax, he might be the Prince of Law officially, but Rexi never forgot that his older title was Prince of Lies. And he wouldn't let his Family forget that, either. The Family served the Reaper of Reputation, not the Prince of Lies.

Norgorber, not Asmodeus.

But the Reaper was known for holding secrets, and Cheliax, under the Prince of Lies, was a country practically overrun with secrets. The Family's archives might hold some clue, and Rexi had set Harold crawling through those old memories in search of anything relating to the statues, or what had become of them. Zackton must know the history, even if he hadn't shared it with Rexi, to describe them so clearly. But even the half-orc didn't have any clues about what had happened to them in the long interval since the Pavilion had been dedicated to Shelyn.

Shelyn ... a new thought came to Rexi. The Asmodean Purge had fallen hard on most of the other churches, but the Church of the Eternal Rose had escaped, despite its ties to other, now-proscribed dieties. Shelyn was the Patroness of art and beauty, and even the new Asmodean hierarchs - perhaps especially the heirarchs - had wanted art to express their new aesthetics. Perhaps Her Temple had some records about the initial consecration, and maybe those records would shed some light on just why Zackton was re-consecrating the Pavilion and ... given that Zackton was reconsecrating it, that gave Rexi every reason to ask for those records.

Best not send Harold, though. Loomis, Rexi thought. He'd have Donal or Loomis go after them.

Encountering Master Zackton without Talon was tricky; Zackton seemed to drag the young half-elf everywhere with him. Rexi couldn't quite figure that out, since as far as he or Sassy could tell, the boy was even more innocent than he looked. How he'd stayed that way in Cheliax was itself something of a wonder, but ... even the white leather harnesses and gear Zackton had ordered for him didn't seem to spoil that sense of innocence.

Rexi chose Master Zackton's workroom. It was on the fourth floor of the east wing, one of the rooms that had been closed up properly, and it may have served a similar purpose in the past. The floor itself was a checkerboard pattern of dark and light oak interrupted in the center of the room by a large circle of slate, set flush with the floor. The ceiling actually opened, Rexi had found out, although the mechanisms had needed much repair and generous oiling. Windows opened to the south, letting in a great deal of light when they weren't shuttered. One of the first things Zackton had ordered - in the polite way he ordered everything - was that the windows be opened to let in air, and shuttered to keep out the light. Two of the far walls likewise boasted huge slate panels, and Rexi had wondered why.

He wondered no more; the panels were chalked with arcane notes and diagrams. An intricate pattern had been chalked onto the slate of the floor, and it had further been enhanced with lines of powdered stone. A huge bass sat in a holder by the circle with a music-stand next to it, holding yet more pages of music and arcane patterns. Rexi had had Harald look at the setup, and he'd identified it as almost-but-not-exactly a wizard's workshop. To the extent a bard could be a wizard, then, this was a bard's workshop of magic, where he might design and create magic devices. The most interesting thing was a huge book, sealed in a leather case with seven buckles that practically glowed with power. Harald had, after considering the matter and consulting an augury of his own, declined to touch it. Sometimes it was best to respect the secrets of others.

Which ... Zackton had done, Rexi admitted. He wasn't certain when the half-orc had realized that the family of domestics he'd rescued from the slave blocks were actually a Family of assassins, but ... he clearly had. Zackton had even had the grace not to laugh at Rexi for getting his Family into that predicament in the first place. Which is what brought him here, with a question about working together and perhaps more significantly: had Zackton Silvercane engineered their sale? Rexi would like to say that Zackton wasn't that sort, but the more he'd listened and watched Zackton wrap everyone - himself included, Rexi admitted - around his own agenda, the more Rexi thought he might be that sort. Except ...

Maybe not. The other thing he'd noticed was that Zacton was an opportunist. He bound others to him using their own interest, their own desires, their own goals. Aligned them together, pointed them after what Zackton wanted, and set them loose. If Zackton had engineered Rexi's humiliating misstep ... that would not align their interests. The opposite, in fact, and if Zackton had known enough to set Rexi up like that, then Zackton should have had a good idea what Rexi would do about it.

And ...

Rexi had skills of his own. So the half-orc had mastered the shadow-hide? Rexi could hide, too. And wait. He was patient. Zackton had been good enough to demonstrate some of his talents for Rexi - Rexi would return the favor. With as much interest as he could muster. Rexi slipped down, and under a footstool. There were other, better places to hide in the room - many - but he wanted something inobvious. Something even Zackton would overlook.

Rexi knew the half-orc spent an hour or so in the workshop, when he awoke and before he retired for the day - as Zackton was still sleeping days. But Zackton had left orders not to be disturbed while he was in the room. It was, in short, a perfect opportunity for someone like Rexi. Rexi was certain Zackton realized that as well, so ... Rexi simply wanted to observe. To see if he could observe, without being noticed. And, perhaps, to take the opportunity to uncover some of the half-orc's secrets.

Rexi could almost feel them, thick and mysterious, and none greater than the half-orc's unstated agenda. Over the past few weeks, Rexi had come to believe Zackton's cover story of opera buff. That was true. But he was certain it covered more. At first, he'd thought it was just treasure-hunter, with that strange obsession with the missing statues in the pavilion. That story seemed to have convinced the Knights of the Scourge and even the Abadarians, that Zackton was quietly looking for some long-lost fortune hidden in the opera house or even in the Blossom Estate itself, but ...

Rexi knew better.

Zackton knew this house. Knew the house like he'd lived there. Knew where the rooms were, knew what the history was, knew ... more, much more, than he'd gotten from any mysterious old journal or diary. Zackton moved in the house with an intimacy and knowledge that could only have come from growing up in a house, or serving in it. Even the master of a house didn't have the immediate knowledge that a servant did. Nobody knew a house like the servants.

But Zackton knew the house now, even better than Rexi did, and Rexi still had no idea how. No, if there were a treasure here, Zackton would have already taken it. And, given the immense amounts he was spending on the house and his other project, the opera house, perhaps he had. In any case, Zackton's profligacy could only mean a fortune so great he was indifferent to more, or ruinous foolishness.

Rexi had long since ruled out ruinous foolishness.

Harald had tested Zackton's magical protections carefully for nearly two weeks. Everything failed; Zackton had no supernatural connection to ethos or morals, carried no magic, and never lied.

So what was Zackton doing in Coryntyn?

Zackton's first act on entering was to close the door, and look over the room. His gaze seemed to pass directly over Rexi, but Rexi was too professional to assume he was safe. Still, he relaxed just a fraction as the half-orc undressed with the same fluid grace as he always displayed. Rexi had wondered if that was an affection, but perhaps not. He draped his clothes carefully against a chair, and then took a long linen strip out of a cupboard, which he efficiently tied into a loincloth.

He walked over to the circle, and began ... it wasn't quite singing, the low muttered chant, but it was melodic in a strange sort of way. Not mesmeric, not hypnotic, not ... no, it was some kind of magic that Zackton was employing. Rexi could feel the magic, though, pushing past him ... potent, really, very potent, and Rexi instinctively tried to hide from it ...

"Rexi," Zackton said, facing him. "Do come out. I won't say you're scaring me, because I am not particularly afraid in this moment, but I will freely grant that you are at the very top of my list of immediate concerns."

With a shrug, Rexi unfolded himself from behind the footstool. "I wanted to talk with you privately."

"About?"

"About plans. Some clear discussion." said Rexi.

"You want to speak openly ..." and the half-orc paused. "Not here," Zackton said after a moment. "The old bower."

"That's across the house," Rexi said.

"Yes," said Zackton. "It's safer. If you please?"

If you please. That, thought Rexi, was an interesting concession. One commanded a slave, one instructed a servant - and that had been Zackton's manner with him up to this moment. Mostly. Zackton was unfailingly civil, but still ... this was clearly a request, not a command.

"Yes," Rexi said, and that was the entirety of their conversation until the redressed half-orc and he had walked into the room on the far side of the house. The room was incovenient; the only way to reach it was via a short passageway with doors that barred from the inside; Zackton barred the first door, and produced - Rexi wasn't sure where he got it - a small bag of chalk, which he blew into the air before proceeding to the bower.

It hadn't been opened up yet; there was no need for it, and Zackton blew yet more dust into the room, watching it as it settled quietly over the room. He then pulled off the doubly dusty cloths to reveal a chaise lounge with worn and ripped upholstery and a small padded couch that was hardly in better condition. Zackton closed the door, and went over to the shuttered window. A moment fumbling with something at the top of the casement allowed him to pull a thick panel of wood down over the window.

"There," said Zackton. "The floor and walls are laid with cork and lead. With that window down, there's a solid inch of lead between us and the rest of the world. The outside passage is barred, and there are, as you can see, no places to hide in this room, and the chalk would have revealed any, ah, lurking eavesdroppers. I carry a powerful ward against spying that protects me personally; I trust you've taken some similar precaution?"

"No," said Rexi, wishing he had. "I didn't think it would be needed."

"The lead should suffice," Zackton said. "This room was built for private conversations," and he sat down carefully on the chaise lounge, as if he didn't entirely trust it not to collapse under his weight. "I don't know how well the cork in the walls has held up, but I do know all the facing walls have cabinetry against them. I think we are safe enough."

Rexi nodded. "I didn't realize this room was so secure," he said. "It's convenient that you knew."

Zackton nodded. "You wonder how I know so much about this house's secrets?"

"Yes," said Rexi. "I know you're after something, but ... I can't figure out what. And I have to - truly have to - know if it will interfere with my Family." Rexi wasn't sure if Zackton heard the capital letter, but ...

"I understand," Zackton said. "I am after something that was left here, a long time ago. The statues are the key I need."

"I figured as much," Rexi said. "But I need to know what."

"And now it is my turn," Zackton said. "Why do you have to, truly have to, know. What is your concern?"

"I have to know if it threatens my Family. We do ..."

"Work, yes," Zackton said. "I appreciate the perimeter security you gave me those first few days. Until you realized it wasn't needed, I expect?"

"Yes," said Rexi. "You were an unknown - possibly a good unknown, certainly a good thing for us at that point, and I didn't want to lose you to an accident. But you spotted us?"

"Because someone else was tailing me," said Zackton. "I might not have noticed otherwise. Your men are very good."

"Thank you," said Rexi. "It was after we found the old chapel."

"To the Reaper," Zackton said.

"Yes," said Rexi. "That's when I started wondering just how much and how you knew about this place." The halfling decided to offer Zackton something. "I appreciated your telling me that Harald had found it."

"I wasn't sure if you were part of the, Family, did you say?"

"Just the Family, yes," said Rexi. "Safer, that way."

"Zackton is a new name for me, too," Zackton said. "Safer that way."

Rexi nodded. "How do you know about the house?"

"I knew the builder, who shared many of its secrets with me. He built that chapel, by the way."

Nice of Zackton to volunteer that, thought Rexi. "And you're after, what? I find it hard to believe you're after a secret treasure vault."

"There might be one," the half-orc said. "I don't know. But no, I'm not after that. I cannot say exactly what I'm after, for ... reasons that I cannot reveal. Not will not, but cannot. Can you be clearer about your concern?"

"Harald has reopened the chapel," Rexi said. "I expect you know that."

"Yes," said Zackton. "How many clergy in your Family? Roughly. I don't expect ..."

"More than five, less than ten," Rexi said.

"And you ..."

"The Family serves the Reaper of Reputation," Rexi said, "but the head of the Family looks out for the Family. The Reaper can look after himself, after all."

"Contract work?"

Assassins, Zackton meant, and Rexi thought about it. "Sometimes. But we prefer quieter jobs."

"Burglary and blackmail," Zackton said.

"If you want to call it that," Rexi said.

"I don't know what the current euphemisms in Cheliax are," Zackton said. "I haven't been here in a long time, and I'm not precisely nosing about the underworld. But then, you're well connected there, I expect?"

"Yes," admitted Rexi.

"Don't think I didn't notice your additions to my theater," Zackton said. "But I don't mind them."

"I can connect you with any services you might need," Rexi said.

"Intelligence," Zackton said instantly. "Only that. The politics are surprisingly opaque. It's difficult to know who is allied with whom. I knew Mordoth would be a threat, so I ... took steps to bring him under my influence, but then, he's been open about his predjudices. I'm sure there are more, I just don't know who they are ..."

"Information is expensive," said Rexi.

"And you are in my House," said Zackton. "A secure base, from which you've made or reestablished a lot of connections. Using my money, I might add. A lot of work I haven't ordered has happened around the house and the theater. Does the word revolutionary apply?"

"And that's a problem because ..." Rexi's voice trailed off.

"Problem? I'd cheer you on," said Zackton. "From the sidelines. Foment trouble all you like, as long as Blossom House stays serene. I said before, what I want is completely divorced from your plans. Plot as deeply as you like. Use my House and reputation and influence, if it helps you. Just don't draw the Scourge down on us."

"And for how long? What happens after you find your something you can't tell for your reasons you can't state?"

"Oh, I imagine I'll get bored with being an operatic sensation after five years or so, if indeed the opera company even lasts that long. I might get laughed out of town in my first production, after all. However it falls out, I'll probably take my something and move on," said Zackton. "I expect either way I'll leave a factor for the house. I am sorry that it cannot be you, Rexi, but ..."

"Slip," said Rexi, bitterly.

"And I'm half-orc," said Zackton. "Let's not trade poor me stories, but the fact remains: power in Cheliax, and therefore Corynton, will remain in human hands. Although I've heard of a half-elf lord."

"He's out of the country," said Rexi. "And neither one of us is ... wait, you're going to put Talon in as factor?"

"A thought," Zackton said. "He'd need your guidance."

"No more than twenty-four hours a day," Rexi said.

"You're right," sighed Zackton. "He'd be skinned alive. Figuratively and perhaps literally. Cheliax is no place for the innocent."

"He's innocent?"

"Mostly," said Zackton absently. "Assuming I cannot find an acceptable factor, I'd be open to your suggestions on the matter."

"And those are the only reasons you're here, to get your something, and play opera singer?"

"Yes," said Zackton. "Oh, if I could find a way to discomfort the rulers here, it would be a lovely sauce to the main dish - but the main dish is opera and my something."

"Opera ... why? Why opera?" asked Rexi, puzzled.

"I love the opera. If you don't, well, I can't explain it. It's something I always wanted," said Zackton. "And, of course, it provides a lovely distraction from my something."

"I don't think anyone is fooled," Rexi warned the half-orc. "The Scourge has infiltrated your theater, and they've hired informers here, too."

"I'm sure you've managed the situation," said Zackton. "I assumed so, anyway."

"Of course," said Rexi. "You mentioned ... contacts."

"Yes," said Zackton.

"My contacts are almost all in Cheliax," said Rexi. "From time to time, I would like to move ... persons, things, letters ... out."

Zackton nodded. "Smuggling, you mean."

"Yes," Rexi still winced internally at the word.

"I can manage ... some. A person every now and then. Goods and letters are straightforward, but the routes go through Katapesh."

"You said Andoran!" Rexi said, surprised.

"I said I could manage a one-time mass escape to Andoran," Zackton said. "And I can. But it would mean burning all my contacts here."

That ... wouldn't work well at all, thought Rexi. "Nothing closer than Katapesh?"

"No," said Zacton.

Maybe the city at the center of the world? "Absalom?"

Zackton let out an irritated huff. "Rexi, I am sorry, but my trade routes go through Katapesh. I am vastly capable, but I am only a single half-orc, not some kind of trading colossus that spans the Inner Seas!"

Rexi sighed. "And I'm just a single slip who, admittedly, has some talented Family working for me."

"Besides, if I understand you, you don't want to go to Andoran. The ... things you want are here in Cheliax, aren't they?"

"Yes," said Rexi. He wanted all of them; every noble, every bureaucrat, every Asmodean disciple, every Hellknight ... every one of them. Offering them to the Reaper was just a side bonus, as far as Rexi was concerned.

"I suspect I understand very well," Zackton said with a grimace. "And I sympathize. I will find some way to leave you here, with as much discretion as possible. But I will not risk myself or my opera. Look at it this way: it gives you time to set up something truly grand."

That was one way of looking at, Rexi had to agree. "It would be better if you could get us into Egorian."

"Too dangerous for me," Zackton said, and then, at Rexi's unbelieving stare, he added, "In some sense, I'm a professional gambler. I won't risk everything on a single bet. No matter how badly things go for me in Coryntyn, Rexi, I'm pretty certain I can get out. With just a few hours of warning, I can - if you wish - take your Family with me, although I cannot guarantee our destination. But in the heart of Cheliax's Imperial city, my options are vastly reduced, and the dangers vastly magnified. I will not set foot outside Coryntyn, under any circumstances. But ..."

"But?"

"When I tire of staging opera here, what better place to go than Egorian? I can send you - and your Family, with a human puppet, to make preparations for me there."

"But you just said -"

"It wouldn't be the first time I've staged my death," Zackton said, and a huge smile split his face. "In fact, what better place to be assassinated than on the stage, in view ... oh, my ... a farewell performance, as it were." Zackton's face had taken on a dreamy look. "The story would live forever, Rexi, and then the rest of the cast could travel to Egorian."

"But ..."

"Oh, I'll have an understudy," Zackton said dismissively. "Years to train him right. Or her."

"Her?"

"A she-orc would be an acceptable operatic substitute," Zackton said. "And would have a better vocal range, did you know that?"

"That's ..." Rexi shook his head, trying to imagine it.

"Just one possibility," Zackton said. "But the important thing is that there are options, and that, if we work together, we can not only stay out of each other's way, but provide that extra little boost we both need to succeed.

"Have we reached an agreement where both of us benefit from the other's success, and suffer from the other's failure?" Zackton asked.

Rexi paused, thinking about that, and looked Zackton directly in the eyes. "Almost. What is the thing in the mirror?"

"A wizard which calls itself Nomos. I believe, but am not certain, that Nomos is male, a dragon, a black dragon, and only recently sexually mature. He is a very accomplished wizard, using magic as a wizard, not as a sorcerer would, and has unusual mirror-related magic. I've worked for him before, several times, as he likes his privacy." Zackton paused. "I should add that this knowledge itself is dangerous, Rexi, and, if I were you, I would be careful in what I am seen to know. I say this here and now because I believe - but am not certain! - that this room is screened from magical detection and eavesdroppers, and because I am reasonably certain that I, personally, am warded against such and these words cannot be overheard by mortal magics. If you were to repeat my words, even here in this room, I would not have that certainty. Are we clear on this?"

Rexi looked around himself with a certain amount of surprise. "The information is that sensitive?"

"I treat it so, and strongly urge you to do so as well," Zackton said. "Nomos' reach extends, as far as I know, to anywhere that has a mirror at a minimum. I think I said earlier that I didn't fear you, even though you were at the top of my priority list?"

"But you fear -" and Rexi caught himself easily before saying the name "- this thing in the mirror?"

"Yes," said Zackton. "Yes I do. A follower of the Reaper should understand all about dangerous secrets."

"I do," and then Rexi gave Zackton a grin. Might as well toss the half-orc a bone, so to speak. "I don't think I need to know, if the information is as deadly as all that." Given the precautions, and assuming that Zackton was right about the difficulty of eavesdropping and the lead lining and the cork muffling ... Rexi thought he could feel reasonably certain there wasn't anyone listening in, but ... just in case ...

A glint in Zackton's eye was the only hint of the half-orc's amusement, but it was more than enough. "A wise decision, Rexi. Anything else? Or do we have an understanding now?"

"We do, Zackton Silvercane. We do," said Rexi. "I have one unrelated question, though."

"Yes?"

"How would you feel about half-orc slaves? Some of the work around the estate just needs more strength than a ..." Rexi trailed off.

"Are orcs available?"

"Uh ..." said Rexi, "I ... I'd have to look. Unusual, which means expensive, although I know that doesn't matter all that much ... what about devilspawn?"

"Let me think for a moment," said Zackton, and Rexi was quiet for a moment. "There are a number of issues. Will you need these, ah, stronger workers permanently or temporarily?"

"Permanently, or I would have asked to hire ..."

"Understood," Zackton said. "This is complicated because I'm going to need to staff the theater, as well. I think it's best to hire for the theater, and buy for the house, so ... how many workers, Rexi?"

"Five or so," said Rexi.

"One overseer. I don't think you'd be taken seriously, Rexi, forgive me ..."

Rexi nodded. "Just the truth. But we can buy an overseer, too."

"Go ahead and buy half-orcs," said Zackton after a long silence. "Fullblooded orc would be good, too. Tell me about this overseer? Did you have someone in mind?"

"As a matter of fact ..."

"Family?"

"No," said Rexi, and then, "You might consider her extended Family, though. We can trust her."

Zackton snorted. "You can trust her, if you like. Expensive?"

Rexi nodded. "But ..."

"Benefits for you?"

"Yes," admitted Rexi.

"Do it," said Zackton. "No. Wait. I want to talk to her first."

"I ... guessed you might," Rexi said. "Pardon me for saying this -"

"We're speaking clearly here, Rexi. No excuses, just say it."

"You seem to have a soft spot for half-breeds," Rexi said, watching Zackton closely for a reaction. He didn't get one, but ... all that told Rexi is that Zackton was even better than he'd thought at controlling his reactions.

Or perhaps the silence was the reaction. Eventually, Zackton said "It could appear that way."

"If you buy them, you control their treatment," Rexi pointed out.

"One of the factors in my decision, yes," Zackton said. "Hence, why I wanted to talk to ..."

"Landra. She's a, or rather, she was, a Knight of the Chain."

Zackton considered that for a moment. "That speaks to her ability to control others by physical might," and the words sounded almost bitten off. "You may have noticed I do not rely on that."

"Untrue," and it felt very strange to talk to Zackton this way, but ... "You rely on it at first."

"Much ... no," Zackton said. "That is correct. You are correct. I did. I do. I don't consider it a good long-term solution."

"Neither does she," Rexi said. "She has ..."

"Stop," said Zackton. "I'll find out what and why she's enslaved when I talk to her, but if there's any connection between your Family and her ..."

"Nothing traceable," said Rexi.

"I am not interested in taking on any additional risk," Zacton said. "Even talking to her creates a connection, that connection can be traced backwards, and if it intersects you in any way ..."

"I know what I'm doing," Rexi said, after a moment. "It does, but she was based here in Coryntyn so her backwards path intersects pretty much anyone, in an unremarkable way. She got ... she's a ..." even now, in this room, it was hard for Rexi just to say it. "She follows the Reaper, too."

"And that's why she was cashiered?"

Rexi nodded. "Nothing to do with us. But ..."

Zackton nodded. "It's not zero risk, but then, what is? It seems low enough. For an interview."

"That's good enough," said Rexi.