Chapter 12. Metal Memories

  Jeremiah filled the water pitcher and set it on the kitchen table. He wasn’t sure what else to do. Billipop’s latest summons dominated the room, a neat stack of papers on the table that somehow loomed over them.

  “We learned some stuff while you were…recovering,” said Allison. She stared at the summons as though it were a viper about to strike. “It’s bad.”

  “Very bad,” agreed Bruno. “We thought we were dealing with a bunch of pissed off nobles with some revenge funds burning a whole in their pocket. Well, it is that too, but it’s also something else.”

  “What does that mean, ‘something else’?” asked Jeremiah. Bruno had a penchant for theatrics, but Jeremiah wasn’t in the mood for a dramatic reveal.

  “It means this is about more than money,” said Delilah. She was rapidly petting Gus in her lap as she spoke. “It’s a conspiracy, but one that digs deeper than I’d thought possible. There’s the lawsuits, yes, but there’s other stuff too. Allison found out there are ongoing investigations into her military past. Bruno’s contacts have been turning up arrested or dead.”

  “Or terrified,” said Bruno. “More scared of whoever is pulling strings than they are of starving without my help.”

  “And there have been claims against my remaining land holdings,” said Delilah. “Namely this house and the Tarnothy fortress, and with that my title.” Her voice was steady, but Jeremiah caught the look of fear in her eye.

  “They want to erase us,” said Allison. “My record is my life. There’s a case moving through the military courts right now to take away several of my medals.”

  “I didn’t even know that was possible,” said Jeremiah. Besides his ignorance of military law, he hadn’t known it was possible to transform his friend into the slumped, dejected woman before him.

  “We’re not just going to let that happen,” said Delilah, patting Allison on the shoulder. “You won’t have to return your medal, Allison, you earned it-”

  Allison sprang to her feet, letting Delilah’s hand fall away. “Yes, I will!” she said. “These medals are awarded at the discretion of the kingdom. If that discretion changes, for whatever reason, they can take them back.”

  In a moment, Allison dashed to her room and returned with a small box. “If the wrong verdict gets passed down, any of these could be forfeit.” She opened the box to reveal a collection of dozens of medals, stamped pins, and badges, polished to a high shine and meticulously arranged.

  Allison removed one badge, a red chevron, and held it to catch the light. “There’s stuff in my record that wasn’t ever supposed to see the light of day. If they manage to dig it up, whoever is doing this…well, let’s just say a couple of medals will be the least of my concerns.”

  Jeremiah suppressed a chill at her words. “Who could even be doing something like this? A coordinated effort across the legal, military, and criminal worlds? And why?”

  “The why is easy,” said Bruno. “This is a personal vendetta—an intelligent, targeted, attack meant to undermine us each where it hurts the most.”

  “This is about removing our influence, systematically obliterating everything we’ve worked to build,” said Delilah. “It goes beyond revenge. Probably it ends with us dead as well, but before that, we’ll be stripped of anything they can strip us of.”

  “And we didn’t even see it until now,” said Allison. She had settled heavily back into her chair, the moment of action costing her. “They keep us distracting us with lawsuits focused on maintaining our resources so we don’t even notice the smaller guerrilla attacks that will destroy us. Classic strategy.”

  Jeremiah shifted in his chair. “Have you guys noticed them coming after me?”

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  The others exchanged a glance. “We looked into it,” said Delilah, “but we weren’t really sure what that would look like. You already quit necromancy, and you don’t really have much of a network here. But it’s hard to be sure, really. Maybe targeting us is targeting you.”

  Her response left Jeremiah feeling hollow. He wasn’t sure if he was more bothered by the idea of someone trying to harm him through his friends, or by the idea that he was so unimportant, the conspirators couldn’t think of any way to ruin his life. “Any ideas for who might be behind it?” he said, changing the subject.

  “Gotta be a war veteran-turned-lawyer who chose a life of crime,” said Bruno. “Who else could influence all of our spheres like this? Especially so effectively, without leaving a trace? But no, we have no idea.”

  “We can assume the conspiracy involves multiple strata of people,” said Delilah. “I’ve tried probing my contacts, but any string I pull just falls away without any real leads. Whoever is at the heart of it is operating so far behind the scenes they might as well be invisible.”

  “So what did we even learn from all this?” demanded Jeremiah. He shoved backwards from the table and started pacing around the kitchen. “We’ve discovered there’s a conspiracy to ruin us, but not just make us broke like we thought—someone out there wants to tear down everything about our lives, and we don’t even know the first thing about who they are!”

  “We’ve learned this enemy exists,” said Allison. “We’ve learned they have reach, power, and influence, and that we can’t fight them in court like we’ve been trying to do so far.”

  Jeremiah stopped pacing. “So how do we fight? What can we even do?” His hands balled into fists at his side. He had never felt so powerless.

  Delilah appeared beside him, holding out Gus. “Here,” she said, “I think you need him more than I do right now.”

  Jeremiah forced a weak laugh as he accepted his own familiar. Gus nuzzled his hands, and he had to admit the toad’s cool skin was comforting. Or maybe it was Delilah’s arm around him as she guided him back to the table.

  “So, you’re all caught up now, Horse Lord,” said Bruno. “We’re at the part where we figure out what we’re going to do about it.”

  “I still say we go after anyone we can see,” said Allison. “The lawyers, the nobles, the people whose names are on the paperwork. Become the aggressor, show them all we’re not to be messed with, and suddenly whoever is pulling the strings won’t have nearly as many bodies to hide behind.”

  “It could take us years just to get through the first layer,” said Delilah. “Yes, Bruno, even with whatever awful thing you’ve just thought of.”

  “Hey, for all you know I’m planning to befriend them and win their loyalty with my charm and wit!” said Bruno, his wicked grin still in place.

  “This is about influence, right?” asked Jeremiah. “Whoever’s doing this has pull over people, enough to control them and keep them quiet—how do we get some of that?”

  Delilah considered the question. “It takes time. I have my own network, of course, but nothing that compares with what’s happening here. To be able to coordinate something on this scale would take several lifetimes.”

  Allison cradled her medals box. “Let’s assume we don’t want to wait that long.”

  “Lifetimes…wait, what about that favor from Lord Marquette?” asked Jeremiah. “He was too far gone to be involved in the conspiracy, but now he’s back and he said he has a lifetime of connections.”

  Delilah nodded slowly. “You’re right. Marquette could be our trump card here. Granted, I don’t know how he could make a difference—even the King’s hands are tied. But you never know with these things. I’ll follow up with him. Good thinking, Jay.”

  Jeremiah was sure to curtail the smile spreading across his face at Delilah’s praise as she continued. “I do warn you all, though, even a favor may not be straightforward. I expect, with the levels of influence we’re talking about here, a favor might just be a conversation with someone who matters. I also don’t know who we may be talking to—you should all be prepared to leave Dramir at a moment’s notice.”

  “Leave?” asked Allison. “Wouldn’t that be like abandoning our position? How can we defend ourselves against the conspiracy if we’re not in Dramir?”

  “We can’t,” said Delilah. “But think of it more like a tactical retreat. We may lose some ground,” she swallowed as she looked around their house, “but it’s to have a chance at winning the war.”

  Allison slumped back again. “Never did like retreating,” she grumbled.

  “Allison,” said Jeremiah, looking around the table at his friends. “Everyone…I won’t let them beat us. No matter what happens, as long as we’re together, we can win this. We will win this!”

  “Both corny and inspiring,” said Bruno, clapping Jeremiah on the back. “I expected nothing less.”