“No, that’s more in the nature of a side project,” the Kyriliarch said. “This is a bit more urgent. Tell me, have you ever heard of the Archive?”
“I’m assuming you don’t mean the archives here at the Forge.”
“You assume correctly. The Archive is a Chosen facility, a repository of information about everything related to their empire and arcana. There were originally many copies, we think, but only one survives.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Maya said.
“It’s not common knowledge, even among the Order.”
“Why? It seems like it would be extremely useful.”
“It would be, if we could get to it. The Archive is on the Forsaken Coast, across the Shattered Peaks. The nearest working Gate is a few days’ walk, and the area is thick with plaguespawn.”
Maya’s eyes narrowed. “I wouldn’t have thought a few plaguespawn would be a problem for a party of centarchs.”
“It’s not just a few. There are packs of them, and they’re bigger and meaner than they ought to be. There have been six expeditions to the Archive in the last century, all led by centarchs, and only three of them came back.”
“Plaguespawn don’t form packs,” Maya said. “Unless there’s a dhakim controlling them.”
“Indeed. There’s something out there that doesn’t want us around.” Prodominus frowned. “That’s why the Council keeps the place quiet. Otherwise too many young hotheads might take it into their minds to go get themselves killed.”
“But you want me to go, I take it?”
“Quick on the uptake, you are.” Prodominus sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I have a question I need answered, and the Archive is the only way. As far as we can tell, the more people we send over, the more attention they draw and the stronger the response. The best chance is to take a small team and hope to make it there and back without getting noticed.”
“Why me?” Maya said. “Baselanthus said you requested me specifically.”
It felt bold, coming right out with it, but Basel had told her to get whatever information she could. Prodominus looked at her silently for a moment, then gave a huge shrug.
“The information I need may bear on the business with Jaedia and Nicomidi,” he said. “Or it may not, but I want to be prepared for the possibility. Outside the Council itself, only you and Tanax know the whole of that story, and he’s already on another assignment. For the moment, the Kyriliarchs want to keep those cards close to our chest, which means not bringing in anyone new. Which means you.”
Maya sat up straighter. It has something to do with Jaedia. “What do you need me to find?”
“We have a piece of Chosen arcana. We think it’s important, but we don’t know precisely why. The Archive will be able to tell us.”
Prodominus rustled through the paperwork on his desk and finally came up with a sheaf of pages, bound together with string on one side. He tossed them to Maya. Flipping through, she saw drawings of a half-spherical device embedded with crystals. Three sharp prongs curved up like claws from its flat surface. There were careful sketches, inset with close-ups of details and markings. According to the accompanying text, the thing was small enough to hold in one hand.
“Where did you find it?” Maya said, turning the pages. “And why do you think it’s important?”
“For the moment I’ll have to keep that to myself,” Prodominus said, looking uncomfortable. “Council business. You’ll have to take it from me that I’ve got my reasons.”
“Will we be able to find it in the Archive with just this? It’s hard enough to dig anything useful out of the stacks here, and they were designed by humans.”
“The Archive is a bit easier to use,” Prodominus said. “It takes a fair charge of deiat to activate, though, so you’ll have to do it yourself.”
“I see.” Maya looked back down at the pages, trying to think.
“Can I count on you?” Prodominus said. “I know it’s a little bit—”
“Unusual,” Maya said with a private smile. “But I’ll do it.” Baselanthus is right. There’s something odd here, and we’re better off being on the inside than the outside. “Can I choose my own team?”
“Of course. Not too many, and make sure it’s people you trust.”
“I have a couple in mind,” Maya said. “When do you want me to leave?”
“As soon as you can. I’ll authorize whatever you need from the quartermasters.”
Maya got to her feet, papers at her side as she came to attention. “Then with your permission, Kyriliarch, I’ll go and get started.”
“Of course.” Prodominus’ expression was hard to read behind his beard. “Good luck, Burningblade.”
“Varo!” Maya said. “Over here.”
Varo threaded his way through the tables in the great checkerboard-tiled atrium of the Forge’s logistics level. There were enough seats for hundreds, but only a few tables were occupied. Still, Maya gathered curious looks. The lower levels of the fortress were the domain of the Order’s support services, the arcanists, scouts, archivists, and quartermasters. Unable to wield deiat, they were nonetheless vital to the Order’s mission, and Maya thought it was ridiculous that many centarchs considered them beneath notice.
She and Beq sat at a square table, and Beq was already studying the packet of papers she’d gotten from Prodominus, several extra lenses over her eyes to let her focus on fine details. Varo pulled up a chair beside her and dropped into it with a sigh.
“It figures,” he said without prompting. “I get sent away on another assignment just when you two get to do something really interesting.”
“Deepfire wasn’t interesting enough for you?”
“Eh.” He waved vaguely. “It’s just a city. Now, ghoul ruins are really exciting.”
“Frankly,” Beq said without looking up, “we could have done with a little less excitement.”
“Any mission where everyone makes it back alive is a good mission,” Varo said. He ran a hand over his scalp, which was freshly shaved and scrubbed to a light brown sheen. “That’s what my friend told me one time, at any rate. But he fell into a den of kite snakes and we had to amputate both his arms, so maybe he would have disagreed afterward.”
“I missed you,” Maya said, laughing. “At least you seem to have made it back intact.”
“Oh, I always do, more’s the pity.” Varo poked Beq in the shoulder. “Good to see you, too.”
“Right,” Beq said, still peering at the papers. “Good to… you know. Thing.”
“Leave her be,” Maya said. “I need to ask you something.”
“If it’s about the story with the cannibal barbers—”
“Not like that,” Maya said, suppressing a grin. “I’ve got an assignment. It’s supposed to be a really nasty place, out on the Forsaken Coast. I’d like it if you’d come with us, but I’m not going to order you. My guess is we’ll be in serious danger.”