2407 Qintax 11, Reshpe

The stiff ball settled in Ariden's waiting palm, the impact jarring him from the impatience swirling in his veins. What's taking them so long? They agreed to meet up at this specific time and Ariden had even opted out of his morning lectures to make it here. He grunted, flexing his wrist to throw the ball upward. Thank the gods he found it lying around in one of the discarded crates in the building or else he would have already gone insane trying to keep himself occupied.

When he bought the building a few months ago, he did one sweep as his time outside the Palace allowed and threw most of the stuff out. Those included rotting cans of paint and varnish, heavy sacks of nails, rancid pails of glue, and parchment upon parchment of furniture plans. He didn't need to guess. It was a fact that this building used to be a woodworking shop before it went under.

Ariden made sure the building's history was clean, that's why he settled for this one. Before it became a company under some unimportant name, it was a residential compound used to house orphans and refugees from other territories. Evidence of it being an orphanage lay on the pillars sticking awkwardly in the middle of the large halls, indicating there used to be rooms divided only by wooden walls. When the woodworking shop was built, they just knocked those dividers over and started anew with a spacious room.

The building was supposed to be two-story high, with enough room for it but the orphanage never got around to adding it and the woodworking shop didn't look like they had the versallis to do so. Ariden was determined to add to the queue and keep it as it is.

It was clean in regards to the neighboring shops and passersby never really thought much about this area. Orphanages, despite the earth sprites being one of the most religious fairies, have a bad connotation and would, therefore, be prone to be looked over or avoided. The woodworking shop, if Ariden's assumption about businesses and companies in Otralo operated was to be trusted, didn't stay up for too long to imprint on people's collective memory. Hence, this building could be anything and people would be expected to walk past it without knowing what's going on inside. It was exactly the kind of thing Ariden was going for.

Now, a few months into settling in, Ariden had slotted a single round table and seven chairs between the first set of pillars from the building's facade, dusted a few corners and scrubbed the walls, and made sure the bolt to the doors didn't crumble overnight. He kept the building's front face the way it was—squalid, desolate, and unremarkable.

The others were given explicit instructions to use the back door located in a dead-end of an alley lining the building's side and to make sure they weren't being followed. So far, Ariden hasn't been able to see anyone taking interest in or noticing the changes happening and the people streaming in and out of the building. How long could they keep it up, though?

He threw the ball in his hand once more, watching it sail away from his eyes in a predicted trajectory. The front door squeaked open. He whipped to the source of the sound just in time for the forgotten ball to smack him in the eye. A cry escaped from his lips as he leaned back on his chair and clasped his hands against his face to nurse the throbbing pain. Then, his throat closed up as the ground began pulling him down. Crap. He forgot his legs had been propped against the table. With a heavy thud, he tumbled to the floor, now clutching not just the side of his face but also his poor back.

A chuckle made him look up. Lufi perched on the opposite side of the table. "That was a sight to see so early in the morning," she said.

"Yeah, sure," Ariden grunted, reaching out to brace the chair's backrest which he used to haul himself up. He winced as he rubbed his cheek. It's going to bruise, assuming he threw the ball high enough. "I told you to never use the front door."

Lufi rolled her shoulders. She wasn't wearing a pilzai today either, like all the days she spent inside this building. Such predictability didn't sit well with Ariden but he let it go. Perhaps, no one was really watching them that closely. He'd tell her when they've got real enemies later down the road. Maybe.

"I'm in a hurry and the alley leading to the back door had something blocking it," she inclined her head to one side. "Did you attempt to clean something out again?"

Ariden rolled his eyes. The last time he did his sweep, he dumped all the garbage on the side of the building, waiting for Otralo's garbage disposal service to get it. He ended up waiting for at least three days. Once he became the Potentate, garbage disposal's the first one he's going to fix. That was, if he was able to outlive his own father. Pops didn't look like he'd keel over any time soon.

"You could say that," he averted his eyes and picked at his nails. Dust still hung around on some fingers. How embarrassing. "What took you so long? What's taking the others so long?"

Lufi blew a breath and pushed over a basket of the soap she had been using to clean the statues in the Temple. "My assignment hasn't been easy," she said. "It took too long to gather these bottles without anyone noticing."

Ariden raised an eyebrow. "What did you do?"

She edged away from the table and sat into one of the chairs. Ariden observed she had come to take that chair as her own and out of habit. "I don't use one bottle to the full. Instead, I requested a new bottle everyday, claiming one isn't enough to clean the whole foyer. I'll transfer the contents of the new bottle into the old one I still have and the process repeats," she said. "One could say that the soap has been going away faster but the Temple has been getting grittier."

A snicker rose from Ariden, joining Lufi in her amusement. She's smart. Really smart. "That's good. Keep at it," he said. "Retrieve as many bottles as you can."

Lufi nodded. "That's part of the reason why I took so long today," she said. "I had to beg my superior to let me take out the trash. Nobody liked to do it so seeing me volunteer like my life depended on it definitely raised some flags."

"Now, that's a problem," Ariden tapped his chin. "What did you do to drive off suspicion?"

She crossed her arms. "I suggested a rotation among the workers in my team," she said. "That way, I can have an excuse to come here during those times and bring the bottles along with me."

Ariden stuck his bottom lip out, making a mental note to adjust his summons for a meeting around that rotation. "Which days did you get?" he asked.

"Every Jyda and Reshpe," Lufi said.

"Got it," Ariden said. "Have you heard from the others?"

Lufi shrugged. "You forbade us to have dealings with each other outside," she said. "I wouldn't know."

Yeah, that's true. He opened his mouth to retrench the topic elsewhere when the back door opened and Ralei and Tria sauntered in. They both look like all the other times Ariden had seen them. Ralei still had his passive, soldier frown and Tria was still as covered as ever. If anything, it made her more noticeable. Imagine walking around like that in the streets. Did she ever get hot?

As much as Ariden wanted to get a scoop of why Tria insisted on wearing what she was wearing, the former spy didn't seem to be privy to share anything about her personal life. Sure, she spilled precious knowledge about The Black Blades but she wouldn't be that open when the questions aimed to bring details she didn't want out in the open.

That's also wise. None of them really knew much about each other apart from the things they let slip. It could be a ground of distrust and quarrel but Ariden expected them to respect everyone's boundaries. So far, they were making it work. Perhaps, some details would get revealed with time.

"How was the company going, Ralei?" Ariden asked as the soldier and the spy took their places in the same spot they held since forever. "I hope you're having fun."

"Hardly," Ralei grouched, the scratches of his chair made when he pulled it closer to the table reflected his mood. "Remind me why I agreed to do this with you."

Tria hummed. "He's been having a hard time understanding taxes," she said. "But no worries. I sorted it all out, up to erasing all traces of everything pointing to us...and to you."

Ariden didn't like the pointed edge of two of her last words. "I'm just a merchant's son," he shrugged, selling the lie he had told to the rest of the group. "Why would I be concerned about things being tied to us?"

"Your father and his...business are important to Avalora," Ralei reasoned. Only the three of them knew the real meaning implied by the soldier. "We need to be extra careful."

"Sure," Ariden resisted rolling his eyes against Ralei's thoughtfulness bordering on paranoia. "Well, what took you so long today?"

Tria blew a breath. The cloth covering her lips bounced against her skin with the gust. "We ran into some of Herven's men again," she said. "We had to recalibrate our routes if we have to ensure we aren't being followed."

That's valid, at least. The first instance of Tria and Ralei getting The Black Blades' leader's attention was when he instructed them to build a company from the ground and seek to bridge the black market and the ore trade in Otralo. It was sure to pique Herven's interest, making him bound to send correspondence not too soon. Ariden had Ralei set up a meeting with Herven with specific instructions to promise to buy most of the cartel's stocks.

Ariden didn't know how that meeting went, but seeing as Ralei was still alive and kicking, it must have gone well. That, and the fact that Tria reported increased activity in The Black Blades' mining joints in Akaron. The cartel took Ralei's offer seriously, even though they didn't get the versal to show for it.

Anything to increase one's profit. Ariden recalled the lectures he spent grilling the scholars on how to close consignment deals and make a company flourish. These businessmen all cared about profit and by drawing up a losing consignment plan and making Ralei propose it to Herven, Ariden knew he had the cartel leader gobbling it up.

A few minutes more, the twins along with Faw entered through the back door. Cohnal dumped a satchel filled with gas masks and sets of uniforms worn by the workers in the main mining shaft. Aeril went straight to his seat and plopped down. Faw popped a sticky bubble from the felze gum she had been chewing.

"Faw was able to break us into Herven's storage rooms," Cohnal reported and jerked his chin to the satchel. "Got what we need."

"Was a piece of teange," the girl plopped to her seat and dropped a fistful of rocks on the table with a clatter. "Stole me some colorful rocks, too."

Ariden's eyes almost bulged at the sight of chunks of criene sitting atop the plain, wooden surface. The ores were almost pale and transparent, its crystalline structure random but mesmerizing. To test it, Ariden picked one up and covered it with his hand. When he peered inside, the rock glowed green. He raised it above his head, towards the steady stream of sunlight filtering past the rectangular windows lining the building's walls. The rock turned bright pink.

Oh, yeah. It was criene, alright.

This ore was high in demand in Peltra, the pixies' territory. It was a great research tool in Lanteglos too, considering it was useful in the study of light. Criene reacts differently to whatever light hits it, making fairies aware of the different types the world has.

It was a lot like otrite, an ore mined in Alkara, the brownies' territory. The only difference was that otrite only responds to the moonslight. Criene responds to all kinds of light.

To think possible cartfuls of it were lying around Herven's compound made Ariden's gut churn. By making the public think something was rare, they were able to ascribe insurmountable value to it. And while demand for the ore turned up higher and higher, the power to decide the price falls to the cartel and the underground market—two of the institutions that shouldn't be given it in the first place.

It was both horrifying and disgusting. Not to mention they exploit their workers by not paying them a liveable wage. Cohnal and Aeril were enough proof of that.

That's why they needed to topple The Black Blades the fastest they could. Ariden stalked to the single shelf they had and drew a bunch of rolled parchment out. Soon, the maps of Otralo, The Black Blades' mines in Akaron, and the probable layout of their branch here lay open on the table.

"Okay, listen up," Ariden said, tapping a finger into a point in Otralo's map he had marked with red ink. "This is the spot where this building is. And this," he dragged his finger a few notches south and tapped it there twice. "Is where the entrance to one of the mining joints is."

"There are more openings right here, here, and here," he continued, tapping more and more red dots around the dot signifying their building. "In short, they seem to be everywhere and, if we trust Herven laid out the bunker similar to the one he had in Akaron, we could say these entrances lead and converge to a common point. And by that common point we meant—"

"The main office," Aeril breathed. "I've heard of its existence but we weren't allowed to go anywhere near it. Are we really going to break in there?"

Ariden bobbed his head. "And to do that, we need to be able to slip past Otralean security, the ones from the Palace," he pointed to a series of dots made with green ink (condolences to the sacuda beetles used to dye it) next, tapping each twice. "Take note of these routes. These are part of the sentries' patrols. Their usual time are first, around the second hour of the second quarter, second, the third hour of the third quarter, and third, the fourth hour of the fourth quarter."

"Those are the hours where the heaviest patrols are conducted," he continued. "Over the days of the week, there are random searches that get determined every day. In short, you won't know which roads would have a platoon of sentries in it and those without."

He stared at the map of Avalora's capital city laid out before them and clicked his tongue. "But really, the Generals are lazy and just do it from west to east," he said, annoyance curling at the base of his tone at the thought. When he first found the pattern in the patrol logs during the time he snuck into the Municipal, he was somewhat disappointed. Then again, it kind of worked in their favor. "They divided the city in six parts and will only patrol that area for that specific day."

Lufi was nodding. Despite not being from Otralo, she had adapted to the winding roads quite well. "That way, we can simply time our operation when the sentries weren't scheduled to patrol that area," she tapped her chin. "Wait, how do you know these things?"

Ariden's shoulders stiffened. "Oh, um," he scratched the back of his neck, adding to the growing suspicion arising from the other side of the table. "Merchants talk. A lot. I happened to overhear some stuff."

"Besides," Ralei perked up. "You forgot that I was a part of the army before. Tria was too. We know some things."

Ariden flashed the soldier a grateful look. He made a mental note to never look like he knew the things he was saying for sure. It's too dangerous and, frankly, staying hidden was pivotal to the plan. "Y-yeah," he let out a chuckle, despite how nervous it sounded in his ears. "They helped me with getting all these."

The others leaned away from the table, their suspicions deviated. Ariden didn't bother mentioning that Ralei had retired ages ago and things had probably changed or that Tria wasn't really familiar with most of the army's operations since the espionage division moved with their own methods.

For now, Ariden was able to dance away from their reach. He didn't know how long he would be able to.

"So, now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's go to the fun part," he rubbed his hands together. "Faw, do you have the tools?"

The girl popped another felze bubble and dug around the tool belt slung around her waist. Within seconds and after a few clinks and clanks, a series of mechanisms and twisted tools lay on the table. Ariden smiled as he picked up one of the gears. "Now," he said, the excitement bubbling from his gut to his voice. "We will make bombs."