Remedy

Chapter Two The Plexus-3

“Well everyone says the Iereía of Elpída is something else. She's as succulent as honey, hair like gold, and a body,” Iphios paused making an hourglass gesture with his hands accompanied by an appreciative 'mm-mm,' sound. “A body that should in rights belong to a goddess. She's a real bellibone. Maybe you should take a look. Just a glance was enough to recharge my battery… now what was her name?” He mulled it over as he scratched his chin. The sound of his nails meeting stubble grated like sandpaper.

“Sunniva?” Rob questioned with raised eyebrows as a bemused expression crossed his face.

“That's it!” He waved his index finger at him frantically, as if just hearing her name unleashed excitement. “So you've met her?”

“She's my sister,” he retorted bluntly, his brows knitting together.

“Flosh.” He gestured dismissively looking at Rob carefully for any sign he was teasing. There was none. The hunter gave a hearty laugh and slapped Rob on the shoulder hard enough to push him to the side. “Ya joking right?” Rob shook his head maintaining eye contact with Iphios. The burly figure stepped back slightly to regard him critically before shaking his head. “Nope, sorry, I can't see it. She obviously got the looks, the smarts and, well, just about everything.” He roared in laughter, his huge frame shaking.

“Now, that's not what your daughter said if I remember correctly,” Rob teased, invoking another hearty laugh from the man.

“Daughter? I've a fine-looking lad, bit of a pretty boy. Don't tell me yer the one who got away,” he chuckled.

“Hmm, I guess I should've found the stubble suspect.” Rob shrugged grinning lightheartedly.

“Ha, stubble, that'll be the day. Anyway, I'm on my way to Therascia, how 'bout ya?” he questioned brandishing a small parchment before Rob's face.

“I think I'll be resting up for a few weeks, you know, until the next full moon.”

“Ya wanna be careful, ya'll earn yaself a reputation.” Iphios smiled reaching out for the door.

“I already have, haven't you heard? I'm the best.” Rob smirked playfully, approaching to give the figure another hearty slap on the back, one which sent searing burning pains through his hand but did little to move the great weight.

“Ya'll never fill my shoes.” He gave a deep throaty chuckle.

“I don't know, three more, and I have beaten your record, shame you chose to turn bounty hunter on me, you were my only real bit of competition.”

“Between ya and me Aeolos, there was no competition,” he retorted.

“Yeah, I suppose you're right. You've long past your prime, I still have my youthful spring.”

“And childlike wit. Besides, did ya not hear? A month ago I seized the Opik Blue.” His hand pulled open the door as he turned back to face Rob, making no attempt to conceal his beaming grin. A grin which only broadened to see the look of utter bewilderment on Rob's face. He turned back towards the door, raising his hand in a parting gesture.

“What?” Rob almost choked in dismay. The shock of the news striking him with more strength than any of their friendly exchanges. Rob swore he could hear the hunter's rumbling chuckles as the door swung closed behind him. “Is it true?” Rob demanded spinning to address the Plexus master, shock still lining his features.

“Afraid so,” he answered with a smile and tone contrary to the expected apologetic mannerisms of one delivering such devastating news. In fact, the Plexus master was smiling so intently that each of his wrinkles had become visible and his moustache threatened to meet his eyebrows. “One of his marks had it in their possession.”

“Of all the dumb luck!” Rob exclaimed before giving a hearty sigh. He tossed a small pouch on to the counter. Attached to it was the Plexus emblem that most in their service wore, with pride, as a badge. “I guess I better cash this in and see what you've got. Dirty cheat, I thought he'd given up on the treasure hunting,” he chuntered in good humour.

Rob searched through his pockets before finding the parchment with his most recent request. He slid the paper across the desk as the Plexus master tipped the green stone from the pouch. His brow wrinkled slightly as he studied the writing from the latest missive before taking both the parchment and jewel into the rear area for verification.

The Plexuses possessed the ability to communicate across vast distances. Their operation, in some ways, was similar to how seasoned Elementalists had described the silent exchange between trees. These scholars of nature had spoken of a fungus, buried deep within the soil, creating a network which was used to communicate, and even pass nutrients, to others. Similarly the Plexus had some undisclosed method of communication, one which was thought to connect to some form of repository where impressions of all Plexus members were preserved.

Even Rob, who had known things in operation beyond the understanding of this time, could not fathom how it worked. He, like any other hunter, would simply present his emblem, and leave the rest to the Plexus master.

When the Plexus master reappeared the pouch held in his possession seemed considerably heavier.

“Everything seemed to be in order. It'll reach them no later than this afternoon. We've added the completion to the records.” Rob gave a slight smile as he slipped some of the payment into a secondary pouch concealed within his inner jacket pocket.

“Was there anything new for me?” he prompted, leaning forward on the counter. He bit his lip slightly, anticipating a reply, while wondering the best way to regain his lead.

“Demon Marauder?” The Plexus master gave a hearty chuckle. One which became a full-blown laugh when he saw the horrified expression on Rob's face.

“No!” Rob grimaced, the disgust in his voice apparent. Plexuses, unlike most businesses, never exchanged personal names. When someone entered their service, and passed the trials needed to earn the emblem, the Plexus assigned them a generic name. One usually fitting to their skills and talents. As they found their expertise their aliases sometimes changed to reflect their calling. No two Plexus names were ever the same, and on occasion people were dubbed with terrible titles such as the one the Plexus master had just uttered.

“Demon Marauder, really?” Rob questioned, wiping his hand down his face in an attempt to conceal his frustration. “Why, when did they change it?”

“They haven't, yet.” The Plexus master roared in amusement. He knew this young man would be good for a chuckle or two.

“Thank the Gods, don't do that to me old man. I thought you were serious.” Rob, despite the frown meant to reinforce his words, failed to hide the relief. He liked his current name, Aeolos, meaning quick moving. It had a nice ring to it, and he wore it well.

“Well, from what I've seen they're reorganising things. It's only a matter of time looking at the requests you've been taking.” He shook his head, his eyes still sparkling with amusement.

“They wouldn't would they? Not to something like Demon Marauder. Would they?” he prompted again when he met with no response.

“Unlikely, something like that would be no better than assassin hunter Victor. An alias like that is just asking for trouble. But he did insist on naming himself.” Hearing the name Rob heard himself tutting, feeling the slow shaking of his head which accompanied the noise.

“I heard about him, poor fool.”

“There were rumours of an investigation. They still don't know how he managed to pass the trials. He may have been broad and strong, but we all know he was skating on the wrong side of the ice. That's what got him killed.” The Plexus master shook his head. “Enough on such things, pass me your insignia, I'll go check.”

Every Plexus member, regardless of which branch they were aligned to, was presented with their Plexuses' emblem. Most saw it as a symbol of honour, a means to announce to any who looked that they were of the Plexus. But it served another purpose. In the hands of a Plexus master, by way of sacred and shielded ritual, it called upon the reflection of its owner, allowing them to confirm the member was who they claimed, and pair them with any assignments currently held. It was a functional tool, but given the difficulty of the trials it was also a symbol of great accomplishment. It was for this reason most chose to display theirs with pride. But Rob's badge weighed heavily. It was nothing more than a painful, unrelinquishable burden.

As Rob waited, he became aware of the silence. All the noise associated with everyday life, the traders readying their wagons, the sellers preparing their wares, even the early morning shoppers, had fallen abruptly still. This eerie quiet lasted for easily a minute, perhaps two. It was always hard to tell in such prolonged unnatural moments. Then, without warning, sound returned; the volume seemed almost deafening as one noise was indistinguishable from another. The only clarity to it was the tone of hatred.

It took Rob a moment or two to decide to investigate. Given the hostile tones it appeared someone had become recipient to the town's malice, and no one within the Plexus—who all seemed content to observe from the windows—made any attempt to intervene.

* * *

Taya dismounted her steed. The chestnut stallion whinnied, complaining as she secured the reins with a quickly executed clove hitch to one of the posts. There were only a few horses and mules secured in such a manner. Merchants, and those spending prolonged time at Riverside Quay, were required to pay for stabling in order to leave the hitching posts solely for the use of quick business, which Taya was certain this would be.

The complex maze of streets and buildings loomed before her. She pressed her lips together tightly as she beheld the towering monstrosities stretching on rickety walkways. She had reconsidered entering countless times. Wondering whether she should proceed, or simply return to Elpída before anyone realised she was missing. The weight of the parchment in her pocket reminded her of her task. If she could prove to Sunniva she could be trusted, perhaps they would see how hard she tried to conform to their needs.

Steeling herself slightly, Taya crossed the boundary, marked by a worn, two rail, post fence. The shadows of the taller structures bathed her in imposing darkness, sending goose-pimples chasing across her flesh. She felt herself duck slightly as she passed under the first walkway, despite it standing far higher than any pedestrian.

Her cheeks flushed with colour as her presence attracted strange looks and curbed whispers. Glancing behind her she was almost certain she was being followed. Swallowing, she lowered her head towards the uneven ground, aware how most of the world viewed 'her kind'.

Pain shot through her wrist as a calloused hand reached out from the shadows. It grabbed her with such force it wrenched her arm back, causing her to spin to face the rosy cheeks of a drunken man. His breath reeked of stale ale, his grip tightening further as she tried to pull away.

“You're a long way from home harpy,” he slurred. “It's like you're begging for trouble. You know what they'll do if they catch ya.” He released her from his grasp, sending her staggering backward a few paces. Regaining her balance she turned, quickening her stride, her gaze flickering backwards towards the dark figure as she retreated. Turning the corner she caught her breath, pressing her back firmly against the wall. Her right thumb and index fingers tugging gently as they turned and traced the ring on her left hand in a habitual movement she displayed whenever she felt anxious.

Passerbys slowed their pace to cast disgusted looks in her direction, but not all of them continued on their way. Some stopped to stare, whispering behind raised hands as they studied the harpy.