Conquest of Avalon

Sir Gerald Stewart poured himself a stiff drink, a bottle of Lyrion single malt he'd stashed in his luggage and forgotten about when times were better. No longer the Prince’s investigator, nor held in any esteem by the Governor’s office, there was nothing to call himself but a failure in this grim, dark world.

The room he’d rented had been paid up until the end of the month, so it had seemed just as well to stay until then, to delay the need to face Mother as a disappointment. She thought so highly of me; it would break her heart. This had been his opportunity to honor the Stewart name, and instead the world had fallen into darkness. What kind of heroic knight could allow such a thing to come to pass?

Even worse was the prospect of reporting to the radiant Prince Harold again, and having to admit he’d failed.

The harbor bomber was still at large, and the railyard thief besides, assuming they weren’t the same person. Which they probably are. The execution and motive seem identical. His old assistant Charlotte had been spared the worst of it, but that was cold comfort.

Gary took a long sip of his drink, staring contemplatively out the window. The bad guys are still out there, and there’s nothing I can do to stop them.

Truly, his plight was horrible, perhaps worse than any alive, and yet he persisted, pulling strength and conviction from within, feeling it burn pleasantly through his body.

He was startled from his musings by a knock on his door. About time, he thought. People always say they’re going to come and visit, only to get too intimidated by my reputation. Although with his latest string of failures, that felt like little more than a twisted joke.

“It’s open!” Gary called out, leaving his visitor to find out whether or not it actually was.

The knob turned and the door creaked open, causing Gary to stumble back in surprise. “Mary…”

His old flame, the one who got away, a tragic love for the ages…

“Hi Gary.” She looked as beautiful as ever, her perfect form unhidden by the shapely winter coat clinging to her sides. “I was going to say that I hoped this wasn’t a bad time, but then I realized that you have nothing going on in your life at all, so it probably didn’t matter! You must be so glad to see me!”

I am. “Perhaps,” he said smoothly, hurriedly pulling the drink to his face to hide his smile. “I guess you finally couldn't stand being apart from me? Because if you think I’m just going to take you back like nothing happened…”

Mary blinked, puzzled that his detective insights could have deduced her purpose so quickly. “Um. That’s not why I’m here. Also, you totally would! I could probably ask you to scrub the floor for me in your underwear and you’d beg for the privilege.”

Why did I ever tell her about that fantasy? He scowled as he flicked moisture from the top of his tunic. “What do you want, then? Are you here just to hurt me again?”

Her face twisted to the side, capriciously toying with his feelings right in front of him. “I was hoping you could help with something. I can’t go to anyone else with this.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, because you’re a detective, right?”

“Oh. I guess, yeah.”

She frowned. “It’s my father… Everyone says he died in a cave-in, an accident in the tunnel, but it doesn’t feel right. If there were the slightest risk of danger, he’d have sent in someone expendable first to check.”

“Of course, it’s the smart thing to do.”

“Yeah, and Father was a smart man!” Mary nodded enthusiastically. “It just doesn’t make sense. I tried to ask Simon, but he brushed me off. When I tried talking to the guardians, they told me it was a closed case. No one’s investigating this, and I’m worried that someone told them not to. Mother’s utterly distraught, even with her new bodyguard, and it’s just… Could you look into it, please? As a favor to me?” Her eyes swelled, pleading, impossible to deny their wishes.

Here it is, the call anew to adventure. A chance to redeem myself with a new, epic quest. “How could I refuse you, Mary? I will pursue it with all my power, finely honed skills from a lifetime as a knight and investigator. I have no doubt I shall catch you father’s fell killer, no doubt the same elusive thief who defied me at the railyard. I shall set right what once went wrong.”

“Really? Thank you!” She pulled him into a hug, but released her grip before things could get interesting.

“As a first step, I’ll need my loyal assistant once more. There’s no one else I’d rather have by my side for this task. Since I’m not acting in an official capacity, Charlotte might need to resign from the Guardians, but I’m sure she’d understand that this is more important. She owes me, anyway. The next step is--” He cut himself off as he heard the door creak open once more. “Oh.”

It was Mother.

“Lady Anya?” Mary looked almost as surprised to see her. “I thought you were guarding my mother. Lady Perimont is very delicate, she needs the security your presence provides.”

Mother ignored her, walking right up to Gary. She towered over him, staring down with her usual narrowed eyes. “My son.”

“Mother,” he croaked out. “I was just offering to help--”

“You were preparing to muck things up again with your usual brand of stupidity. How is it that I can send you to the far end of Avalon, travel to another continent, and still you plague me?” She was using the same playful teasing she’d often employed back in Forta, but somehow this time it felt a bit menacing. “Since you have so clearly failed to make yourself useful, I shall have to give you more personal instruction, in the hopes of rendering you even slightly less of a disappointment. From now on, you will report to me. You will do as I say.”

“Well, I was actually going to--”

Lady Anya turned her head back to Mary. “Lady Perimont has already employed my services for this task, Miss Perimont. You had no need to conscript my moronic son. From now on, please, in the interest of your father’s memory and the success of my duties, stay out of it.”

Without changing the angle of her head, she grabbed Gary by the ear, pulling his head down to her waist as he groaned with pain. “Come now, you’ve bothered Miss Perimont enough.” She flicked her eyes to Mary one more time, then marched out the door, Gary scrambling to keep up.

“You will thank me before long, Gerald. I’m helping you to honor the family name.”

He tried to pull his head free using a cool dive he’d practiced in combat training, but her grip was firm.

“The first thing you need to learn is to pay attention. Unfortunately, in your case, it’s liable to be the hardest. Look out there.” She pointed south, along the coast, dimly lit by the faint light of the moon.

“Water? It looks like--agh!” He winced as her grip tightened.

“Look at the edge, the discoloration running in a streak across the Sartaire. Were it a boat, one could almost think it was headed to Guerron.”

“But it’s not a ship!” he exclaimed, finally getting it. “That’s what you wanted me to notice! It’s just a streak of purple.” He felt her foot on his back as she pushed him into the dirt.

“The Prince and his private sorceress departed tonight in disguise, hiding their trip beyond the city walls. A servant of spirits, Gary, and now an unnatural purple streams across the water from the direction they were headed.”

“Why-” He sneezed, dirt flying into the air from his face. “Why didn’t you just follow them to their meeting?”

She tilted her head. “A mildly intelligent question. It seems my tutelage is already helping you shape up. In any case, I followed as far as I dared. But the last thing I need is to be caught out by some spirit monster or other.” Her eyes narrowed further, looking out at the faint purple streak in the water. “In fact, if the dossier the prince gave me was correct, I believe I have all the confirmation I need to proceed.”

“You do?”

“Of course. That was the poison monster, from a time when Pantera still preyed on Cambrians. Prince Lucifer must have had quite the offer for him to show his face again after so long.”

“Luce? Are you saying he’s in league with evil spirits?” The purple steak was nearly gone, stretched to the other side of the water. “I thought--”

“Your first mistake, given how manifestly unsuited you are to it. Now cease with your insipid questions. Simply follow, and listen. No one has any interest in hearing your thoughts, and I don’t imagine any will invite you to share them again unless you can finally get your head on straight.” She glanced towards the fading echoes of the poison monster in the water, and—