Seventeen taverns and eight shops, all said the same thing: up to Dallion’s incident, chainlings had come and gone fairly frequently, sometimes two or even three at a time. Knowing what he knew now, Dallion could assume that by “chainlings” they meant the cultist he had fought. All that suggested that the area had seen a lot more activity than previously believed. The reason for that, though, still remained unclear.
“It’s deep under there,” Vend said. He had spent a significant time combat splitting, checking the tiles at the square one by one.
Dallion took the kaleidervisto from his holster boot and looked at the spot in question. There was nothing to be seen. Apparently, turning a chainling into a guardian rendered the device inefficient.
“I’ve no idea how they placed it exactly, but taking it out will be difficult.”
“I’m surprised the city guard didn’t find this,” Dallion said. “Or the overseer. Wasn’t she supposed to be able to sense these things?”
“That’s the whole point—you can’t sense it. I know it’s there because of the residual effects, but I’ve no idea where exactly. It could be two feet beneath the ground, it could be twenty. We’ll need a dozen city guards only to dig up that thing, and no one would allow that during the festival.”
“Even with the entire city at stake?”
“Especially then. It would mean that the Lord mayor cannot secure his city. Even worse, it’ll mean that the countess doesn’t know what’s going on in her own county. Admitting that is the same as stepping down or inviting a new war of succession. There are people alive who still remember the last one, and they definitely won’t take any rumors calmly.”
A chill passed down Dallion’s spine. His grandfather was heavily involved in the wars of succession. His personal downfall aside, the entire province had been plunged in war lasting years. It was understandable why the topic might be touchy.
So, there’s nothing I can do, Dallion thought.
That’s not exactly true, Nil said. True, it seems that the Vermillion keys have been buried throughout the city and so beyond reach, for all practical purposes. However, one big question remains: Why?
Time seemed to stop as Dallion went through all the relevant information. He knew that the Star’s plan involved several Vermillion’s Tears, as well as the world item in some way. The Vermillion keys had been leveled up and buried in various parts of the city. Why, though? There didn’t seem to be any banished creatures in the vicinity, so having them there was pointless. Even if these were just hiding spots from which items would be taken to be used later, it didn’t make sense that they would be placed so—
“How deep could it go?” Dallion asked all of a sudden. “A couple of dozen feet?”
“Could be. I told you I can’t be sure about—"
“What about a few hundred?”
“Not impossible, but they would have required a lot of digging, and there’s no way that wouldn’t have been noticed.”
“I’m so stupid! We’ve been thinking this all wrong. The clues were in front of me the entire time, and I didn’t bother to look. We’ve been here over an hour and we didn’t ask the most obvious question. How was the ring put there in the first place?”
Without giving Vend a chance to say a word, let alone ask a question, Dallion rushed to the nearest three-story building.
How was the chainling buried? he asked.
The same way things are buried, the building guardian replied. You dig a hole, drop it in, and then cover the hole up.
How long did it take for the person with the item to dig up that hole?
I’m not sure. Time runs differently for me. About ten years, I’d say. Give or take.
How much would that be in real time?
Approximately three seconds, Nil replied. For a building of this size and nature, ten years would be no more than three seconds.
“Dal?” Vend joined Dallion in front of the building. “What’s going on?”
“Three seconds,” Dallion burst out laughing. “They made the hole in three seconds.”
“That’s impossible. You won’t be able to move more than a tile in three seconds. The only way is to enter the area realm, and that would have been felt by the Lord Mayor and many of the other nobles.”
“That’s not true. There’s an easy way for it to be done. Give me a knife and I’ll show you.”
Suspicious, Vend took one of the knives from his belt and handed it to Dallion. Dallion took the weapon, then held the blade by the tip with two fingers and let it go. The knife fell steadily until it hit the ground.
“Profound,” Vend said.
Quickly, Dallion picked up the knife, then stood up and let it go again. The result was no different than before. Picking it up again, Dallion then split into a dozen instances, all doing the same exercises, only dropping it on a slightly different spot. After close to half a hundred tries, he finally stopped.
“The only way to bury something so deep in three seconds is to find a hole that existed before.”
“Interesting logic, but there’s nothing there. This has been a plaza since I could remember. If there was anything of interest, the overseer would have found it after your fights against the chainling.”
“Who says she didn’t?” Dallion stuck the knife in the crack between two pieces of pavement, loosening one tile. Applying enough pressure made the tile pop, revealing a small hole underneath. It seemed no larger than a copper coin, but Dallion suspected that it went down a long way. “What’s the most important principle of this world?” Dallion asked, looking up at Vend. “You only learn the things you’re allowed to learn. If there was a huge network of ruins beneath Nerosal, the Lord Mayor and a select group of nobles would know about it, as would the overseer. Respectively, none of them would want the secret to come out.”
Most of the nobles banished to this city must have been aware, as was the copyette. That had been the real reason that the Star wanted him dead—not because of anything he said or because he feared his strength, but because he knew everything about the city upon which Nerosal had been built… and how much of it existed buried beneath the surface.
“Was there a fountain here?” Dallion asked. “Or a well of some sort?”
“Not in my time.”
“Do we have enough to warn the countess now? Or the mayor at least?”
“Not until evening. But I know a way of telling the overseer. If you’re right, she’ll act. We might get in a bit of trouble, but she‘ll look into it.”
That was a potential compromise. Dallion still had second thoughts. Part of him questioned whether the overseer could be trusted. According to Nil, her only role was to protect the city, a role that she had done exceedingly well. However, she remained a chainling. If offered the prospect of freedom, would she remain loyal or become part of the scheme?
“You warn the overseer,” Dallion said. “I’ll look into this whole thing with the ruins.”
“We’ve discussed this. I’m not letting you do anything alone. You’ve filled your stupid quota for the year.”
“Someone has to warn the overseer, and after my mess up, that person isn’t me.” Dallion hesitated for a few moments. “You can always join me once I’m done.”
That seemed to convince Vend. The elite knew the importance of the situation. Nothing indicated how soon the Star’s plan would come into effect, but the more they delayed, the less chance they had to get in front of things.
“How will you get there? I doubt anyone will reveal such a secret, just like that.”
“They don’t have to. I’ll just find out which part of the city’s sanitation system has never received a repair request. Someone at the guild will know. I’ll ask.”
Strictly speaking, Dallion wasn’t lying. He was going to ask Nil, who was an echo of captain Adzorg. In terms of knowledge, it was the same thing.
“I’ll let the overseer know. Meanwhile, don’t do anything too reckless. If you’re caught, you’ll be in serious trouble, and I’m not talking ten days in a prison item. If the ruins really exist, the secret must have been kept for generations. And you don’t get to keep such a secret by being nice to those who uncovered it.”
The implication was clear: if he came across any guards, Dallion might lose more than his freedom. Still, he nodded. At this point, the euphoria had filled his very being, urging him to see this through.
“I’ll join you as fast as I could,” Vend said, then rushed off in the direction of the arena.
I’m not sure that was the right choice, Nil said. He could have been of help. Moons know, you’ll need all the help you can get down there.
You think so? If you ask me, he’s the one doing the dangerous part. I wouldn’t want to be the one to tell the overseer. As Vend said, there’s no telling how she’ll react. Besides, everyone’s focus will be above ground. All I need to do is get the Vermillion keys. The fact that the cultists had to use such methods to get the ring down there means that they don’t have any other means of access. As long as I don’t draw any attention, I’ll be fine.
The old echo wasn’t at all convinced by Dallion’s reasoning, but he let it pass.
Nerosal’s sanitation system was nothing like what would pass as a sewer system back on earth. It was less a comprehensive sewer system, rather than multiple sets of tunnels in the important areas. Dallion’s initial guess was that since only nobility—and not even all of them—enjoyed privileges such as plumbing and running water, it would be those sections of the city that had sanitation tunnels. As it turned out, that wasn’t always the case: each area close to a water source had its own set of tunnels, providing water to several wells in that part of the city. The mayor’s palace, naturally, had its own, although it had been maintained diligently for the last twenty years, at least. According to Nil, the noble areas were the ones constantly requesting repairs. To them it was the same whether there was a single crack or the entire thing was about to collapse: they could afford to have it pristine, so they didn’t hesitate to hire awakened every few weeks to check and fix what they owned. There was no way they would do that if there was anything to hide.
I’m sad to say that your plan is flawed, dear boy. If something were secret, I wouldn’t know about it at all.
I have faith in you. Dallion smiled. He strongly suspected that Nil’s original knew far more than he was sharing. Can you think of any place without sanitation tunnels at which nobles gathered a lot?
The guard forts. I wouldn’t say the visits often, but every now and again, someone from the Lord Mayor’s office goes there on an official visit.
That’s one possibility.
Theatres and the arena during festival time, also. Other than that, I can’t think of—
The arena! Dallion said.
Back on Earth, the coliseum in Rome had a means to be filled with water, suggesting a massive and complicated water and draining system. While there was no guarantee that things in this world would copy achievements on Earth, the arena was the second place at which Dallion had seen a chainling.
Can there be any sort of tunnels beneath it?
It’s a large building, Nil said. I expect it’s possible. As you know, it’s not one of the places I like to visit. On the bright side, you’d have no problem going there. You’re a rising star at the tournament, after all. Are you sure you want to gamble with your hunch? There’s no guarantee you’ll find anything.
Dallion was fully aware, however, he also had the feeling he was right.
I guess I’ll meet back up with Vend sooner than expected.