Old Acquaintances
The rain continued to beat down on us as we flew towards Sunny Palms Island. Much of the island was owned by a retirement home company, and houses, complexes, and apartments dotted the landscape. This one had visited Double Dilemma in the past, so it flew straight for his home with its Companion escorts. The home slowly emerged from the gloom caused by the rain. It was a blue one-story house outfitted with rails and ramps designed for the needs of the elderly. It belonged to a community where nurses and other employees rotated about the neighborhood to help the residents. Down below, some of them could be seen under umbrellas, going about their business of making the waning years of their charges as comfortable as could be managed.
The Arrow-stallion frowned as we approached Double’s house. “So what are you thinking? Are we going to be dealing with some sort of hostage situation, or do you think we’re walking into a trap?”
This one had been asking itself that the whole trip here. Blackwing’s note stating he wanted to meet this one at Double’s home had caught it off guard. It could be that he hoped he could meet this one someplace it would be less likely to start something for fear of hurting its old mentor and former leader of the Masks, but this one suspected something more sinister. There were plenty of ways Double’s presence could throw this one off. This one was emotionally invested in Double’s wellbeing, for one—in many ways, this one saw him as a favorite uncle. It was clever if that was Blackwing’s intentions, but that type of plan risked becoming too clever for its own good. Sure, you can threaten someone’s family to try and make them act a certain way, but such a tactic was just as likely to cause them to act in irrational or emotional ways they normally wouldn’t.
“It’s almost certainly some kind of trap,” this one decided to tell him. “Though this one suspects it will be more elaborate than a simple hostage situation.”
The Arrow-stallion grunted unhappily. “No offense to you, sir, but spies seem to have a way of making everything overly complicated. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
This one didn’t need him spooked by the cloak-and-dagger tactics of its profession. “I'm well aware of that problem. I've been trying to keep my plans a bit simpler lately.”
This one had learned the hard way a long time ago that a simpler plan was better than a complicated one. Sure, backups, contingencies, and redundancies had their place, but the more complicated a plan got the more likely something would go wrong. Particularly where often unpredictable people were concerned.
“So how can we simplify this one?” The Arrow-stallion squinted for a second before pulling out a pair of binoculars. “Looks like we've got guards down there. Wait, are those Mask agents?”
As we got closer, this one confirmed that they were indeed Masks. There were about a dozen of them, each wearing black armor and cloaks—and those were just the guards this one could easily see. There were always hidden agents floating about pretending to be staff and residents. Double was usually heavily guarded; he knew far too much to risk him being kidnapped and interrogated by the enemies of Freeport. Plus, he had plenty of enemies within Freeport who might get it into their heads to get some revenge on him now that he was no longer in power. But there usually weren’t this many guards around him.
This one stopped to hover for a bit as it thought. “I suppose it's too much to hope that those are just Double's bodyguards.”
The Arrow-stallion fidgeted with his weapon. “Is Blackwing stupid enough to go around pretending to be a Mask agent?”
“I can't rule it out, but I doubt it would be that simple.” Though he hadn’t said them out loud, this one could hear his various worries: getting into any kind of fight with the Masks would be unwise since that was a great way to get on the Council’s bad side. It could be this was part of the scheme on Blackwing’s part to provoke a fight between this one and the Masks. This one did have a checkered past with them, and as this one had taught him, making other factions fight one another to achieve your goals was often a lot safer and easier than doing the fighting yourself. Granted, disguising oneself as a Mask agent was another great way to draw their ire, but Blackwing might be confident enough to think he could pull such a plan off.
“You sure about going there?” He pointed at the house. “I know the General wasn't wild about you going to this meeting. Something's up, I can feel it.”
He wasn’t the only one, but this one needed to figure out what was going on. As Platinum said, you don’t win the game by exposing your king. But there were things this one wanted, or even needed to do itself. Thus far its investigation had been getting blocked left, right, and center, and Blackwing would know things this one needed to know. Besides, it wasn’t like this one was walking in there defenseless. This one had several magical items on itself to aid in an escape if one turned out to be necessary, and this one hadn’t lived as long as it had without being fast to react to a sudden threat.
This one sighed and shook its head. “I'm not sure about it either, but I have to take a few risks if I'm going to get answers...”
The Arrow-stallion didn’t agree with this one, but neither did he disagree. This one carefully flew down. No one shot at us or otherwise acted in an overtly hostile manner, so that was something. The Mask agents took note of us as we flew in, but they didn’t seem overly concerned by the fact.
This one trotted up to the front door, acting as though it belonged there even if this one was quite worried it was just surrounding itself with enemies. One of the two Mask guards flanking the door held up a hoof for this one to stop and called out in a commanding if somewhat bored voice. “And who are you?”
This one straightened itself slightly as it addressed the guards. “Puzzle Piece. I'm expected.”
“That you are.” The guard opened the door. “You may go inside, but leave your guards outside.”
The Arrow-stallion tightened his grip on his weapon and the other Companions stiffened, but this one held up a hoof to settle them. This one leaned closer to the Arrow-stallion and whispered to him. “This one is going to see what this is about. If it looks like trouble, this one will activate the gem.”
“I don’t like it,” the sergeant grunted back. “Something could happen to you before we get to you. And we’re outnumbered.” His eyes flicked to the gathered Mask agents. If it came to a fight, things would likely get very ugly, very quickly.
“That’s why we have contingencies set up.” Above multiple squads of Companions were stationing themselves in the clouds overhead, well out of sight to anyone on the ground. The only problem being that it would take precious time for them to dive to our rescue if it came to a fight. But this one was committed now.
This one stepped into Double’s home, and the guards closed the door behind it. Despite this one’s worries, it wasn’t immediately ambushed. What this one saw there wasn’t exactly what it expected.
Double was sitting in his favorite chair in his living room. He was in his natural form, and where his body had once been solid and powerful, advanced age had taken away much of his strength and added weight in many places. He was smiling at the other changeling in the room he was having a conversation with, and this one immediately recognized the individual.
Cold Comfort, the changeling responsible for exiling this one from Freeport, sat on the couch opposite of him. He was also in his natural form, and he smiled in that frosty, detached smile of his. Despite his current lofty position, he hadn’t neglected himself; he was tall, and while slim, still muscular for his natural build, and he moved with a cool confident deliberateness.
Several questions immediately sprang to mind. Why was Cold here? Was this some sort of trick? Was Blackwing disguised as one of these people? This one had to force itself to stay calm. Showing fear or weakness would be a critical mistake in the face of an enemy.
Double was the first one to acknowledge this one’s arrival with a friendly wave. “Puzzle! It's good to see you.”
This one smiled, but it was a brittle thing with Cold there. “Double, it's been far too long.”
“That it has. Come on, sit down. Cold and I were just talking about...” Double’s friendly smile faded as he blinked a few times. “About... I'm sorry, I seem to have lost the thread.”
“The old days,” Cold said in an almost dismissive manner.
Double nodded. “Right right, the old days. That’s my problem these days, I keep finding myself thinking of the old days.”
In all honesty, Double had bigger problems now. Suddenly losing track of the conversation was an all too common occurrence for him. The doctors said it was dementia. Nowadays, Double’s mind belonged more to the past than the present; twenty-year-old memories were clear as day, but he couldn’t remember things that happened five minutes ago.
It was ... painful to see. What had once been a changeling with a powerful mind that could run an efficient spy organization like the Masks now needed nurses to make sure he took his pills on time and see him to bed. With hindsight, this one could see him showing some of the early symptoms of dementia shortly before it had been exiled from Freeport. At the time this one had dismissed the odd moments of forgetfulness for one reason or another, but when this one had returned to Freeport, it had discovered Double in his reduced state. It had been a difficult thing to come back to. After all Double had done for this one, this one was unable to do anything to help Double in return as he slowly lost the battle for his own mind.
Still, this one kept up its smile for his sake. This one owed him that much. “Yes, this one has plenty of fond memories, sir, especially when it comes to you.”
Double chuckled to himself as he poured himself a bit of rum. “Oh yes. Why, I remember when the both of you were still grubs going through training. Both so eager to please and prove yourselves.”
“To be fair, we had a lot to prove.” Cold turned his head slightly to look at this one with his peripheral vision. “And some of us wanted to climb higher than others.”
Cold hadn’t wasted any time launching some barbs, so this one started delivering some of its own. “Oh, this one wouldn't underestimate either of our ambitions. Young grubs always want to conquer the world.”
“We all have dreams. It's just a matter of whether they’re realistic, and what we're willing to do to achieve them.” Cold took a sip from his glass. “And if those ambitions are too indecent for their own good.”
He was one to talk of indecent ambition, given what he had done to this one and the Masks. “Naturally. Of course, too much ambition can lead to betraying one's friends and oneself.”
“And we can't have that,” Double said. “All things in moderation, as they say.”
If Cold was disturbed by this one's statements, he didn’t show it. “As you say, Double.” He cleared his throat. “Though if you'll accept this one's apology, this one would like to take this opportunity to talk with Puzzle for a few minutes. Business, you see.” Cold’s grin had a mocking edge to it. “Something an old changeling enjoying his well deserved retirement doesn't need to worry himself about.”
“Of course, this one understands.” Double stood. “I'll just be out back. You two can come outside when you're ready. This one will see if we can get some snacks as we talk. It’s been too long since the three of us got to have a friendly chat together.”
Cold and this one agreed to the idea, and Double shuffled out of the living room. Once he was gone, this one dropped the warmth from its voice. “Shall we drop the pretense of civility, then?”
“If you wish, old friend.” Cold took another sip from his glass before putting it down. “And no doubt you have a great many questions.”
So this one did. The question was whether Cold was inclined to answer any of those questions, and if he would answer honestly. “This one doesn't believe your presence here is a coincidence.”
“It's not,” Cold confirmed. “This one wanted to speak with you, but it was afraid you would make excuses for not wanting to meet with this one. You do always seem to be extremely busy whenever the Masks would like to hire your services. Even when all you’re doing is hanging out in that office of yours.” A mocking smirk tugged at his lips “When you still had one, anyway.”
This one didn’t rise to his bait. He was trying to throw this one off its game—make it emotional, keep it from thinking. This one had seen Cold in action more than enough times to know his tactics.
Though he was right about this one avoiding doing any kind of jobs for the Masks. Given this one’s history with Cold and the organization, this one wanted to avoid them whenever possible. In addition to the purely personal reasons it had, this one was suspicious whenever the Masks had a job. It would be like Cold to offer this one a job that was likely to get it killed, and this one didn’t feel like giving him the chance.
While the Council had occasionally forced this one to work with the Masks, this one tried to make those incidents as few and far between as possible. “This one admits, it’s a surprise to see you here,” this one said. “When’s the last time you even visited Double for its own sake?”
Cold’s eyes narrowed. “That is between the two of us.”
Now that this one had ruffled his feathers a bit, this one launched into a more serious question. “So where’s Blackwing? He was supposed to be here.”
Cold shrugged uncaringly and pulled out a letter that he tossed onto the surface of the coffee table. “This one is sorry to inform you that Blackwing won't be showing up to your little rendezvous.”
This one took the letter and read it quickly. It was in Blackwing’s writing, and in so many words, mocked this one for thinking that he’d be so stupid as to fall for a trap like this. Furthermore, he announced that we would be meeting one on one soon enough. “And how did you get your hooves on this?”
“Sour, Puzzle?” Cold’s frosty grin returned. “Do you think there is anything happening in Freeport this one doesn’t know about? We intercepted the message just like we do everything else of importance in this city.”
This was a disturbing revelation. How many of this one’s messages had Cold been intercepting? How much of this one’s mail was he reading? And if he could intercept this message...
This one shrugged, pretending that none of this was particularly bothersome. “Blackwing not wanting to meet with this one is hardly a surprise, but it was worth the effort to try. This one will find him soon enough.”
“The only question is if it will be soon enough.” Cold leaned back on the couch. “You've made quite a mess. Your lieutenants rebelling against you, chaos in the streets...” He clicked his tongue as he shook his head. “Quite disappointing for the changeling who describes himself as the premier information broker and problem solver in Freeport.”
“This one’s less than happy about it too,” this one said dryly.
“This one doesn't doubt it.” Cold tapped his forehooves together. “And if the Council had taken this one's advice and never let you come back from exile, this never would have happened to start with. Quite short-sighted on their part.”
This one wasn’t about to let him win this argument without a fight. “And then Metal Mome would have gotten away, the Old Mind’s attempt to infiltrate the islands might have succeeded, and countless other messes this one helped clean up would have come to pass.” This one decided to toss in one more barb, just to see how Cold would react. “Oh, and we wouldn't have a new wielder for Chainbreaker.”
Cold’s mask cracked as anger and hatred flashed in his eyes. “All problems this one could have dealt with if it had been given the chance.”
This one’s fangs showed in the smirk it gave Cold. “Like that little incident where you botched things up so badly that the Council brought this one back from exile despite your very vocal opposition? That was quite the mess this one had to clean up for you.”
Cold’s brow furrowed as he struggled to maintain his cool. Being someone who took great pride in his competence, he didn’t like to be reminded of past failures. “You’re one to talk about messing up given the mess you’ve created with your organization.”
“Ah, but did this one?” This one frowned as it sat down in Double’s chair and pondered for a moment. “Blackwing has always been ambitious, but he was loyal. This one doubts he would betray it without some outside encouragement.”
Cold snorted. “Or you screwed up trusting him. Or maybe your organization is such a shoddily put together operation that its fracturing was inevitable.”
This one didn’t let his venom distract it. “Or someone with considerable resources, money, and influence convinced him to go rogue. The thing with Blackwing is he’s never been particularly interested in running even his part of the organization, much less the rest of it. That fact has caused this one no small number of headaches, considering it has had to take a more direct role in controlling the intelligence wing of its organization than it really should have had to. No, he has a different motivation than just taking over the organization for its own sake.” This one’s eyes narrowed. “This one’s thinking that one of its enemies pushed him to turn on this one.”
Cold’s face might as well have been made of granite. “Of which you have many.”
“So this one does.” This one tilted its head to the side as it carefully watched Cold. “Like the changeling before it.”
Cold’s voice became icy as he replied. “Careful, Puzzle. You're coming dangerously close to saying something you can't take back. Accusing a special consultant to the Masks of engaging in a scheme that ended up causing chaos in the streets would have serious consequences.”
Cold being a special consultant to the Masks was a fiction. He was still the leader of the Masks in all but title. Officially, he had stepped down from the post and quit the Masks when he’d taken his current position. The Masks were supposed to be an independent organization responsible to the entire Council, not just to any one of its members, but Cold turned that rule on its head with a political fiction. The changeling officially at the head of the Masks was little more than Cold’s puppet, with his only real virtues being he was a mostly competent administrator and that he was completely loyal to Cold.
Still, this one had gotten what it wanted with the barb. “Did this one make such an accusation? It did not. Though it wonders why your mind immediately flew to such a scenario.”
Cold’s own fangs flashed at this one. “Because you have every motivation to sully this one's reputation thanks to our past history.”
“Don’t you put this one’s exile on this one. That happened because of your actions,” this one corrected as its body tensed. “That was your choice, and your choice alone. Don’t come crying to this one if you’re unhappy with the consequences.”
Cold scoffed. “You’re trouble; always have been, always will be. Quite simply, you don’t know your place in the world, and as a result you will always cause trouble. You’re plotting something, and this one knows it won’t be for anything good. This one did everyone a favor getting you out of Freeport.”
“More like this one was a threat to you and your power,” this one countered. “We both know who Double really wanted to succeed him in the Masks, and that’s always stuck in your craw. Hasn’t it?”
Cold wasn’t about to let this one have the last word. “And yet it was this one who succeeded Double and sent you packing. We both know who's the most powerful intelligence expert in this nation, now don’t we?”
“Yet you still see this one as a threat to all your ill-gotten gains.” This one leaned forward and smirked. “Tell this one: how much does it bother you that this one is now a close personal friend of the slayer of Blackfyre and wielder of Chainbreaker? Leaders of the Masks come and go, but legends like the Shimmer-mare...”
That brought a deep scowl out of Cold. As this one had surmised, there was something about the Shimmer-mare and Chainbreaker that profoundly bothered Cold. “You're getting ahead of yourself. Your Shimmer-mare is a long way from being a legend, and she has a great many pitfalls.” Cold leaned forward as well, his voice dripping venom as he spoke. “And this one is sure it doesn't have to remind you of how exactly the legend of Torch ends. There is a very good reason why it’s the Council that rules Freeport and not the descendants of Torch.”
This one flashed its fangs. “Think about which role you're casting yourself in with that comparison. If you fancy yourself the successor of the Necrocrats ... remember the end they met as well.”
Cold rolled his eyes. “Your example is hardly relevant. As you yourself pointed out during your last meeting with the Council, we’re a long way from how things were under the Necrocrats. You’re no idealistic revolutionary trying to free the slaves, and this one isn’t some megalomaniacal necromancer with delusions of grandeur.”
This one couldn’t ignore an opening like that. “True. You don't actually know necromancy.”
Something ugly flashed behind Cold’s eyes, and his voice became strained. “As fun as it is to trade barbs with you, this one did have a reason for going through all the trouble of arranging this meeting. It has to do with the collapse of your organization."
Content with having prodded Cold, and interested in what he had to say, this one nodded. “Do tell.”
Cold took a deep breath. “To get right to the point, this one is willing to offer you five million ducats for you to leave Freeport. For good.”
This one couldn’t help but give the proposal a scornful laugh. “Is that your game? You can’t force it out of Freeport so now you’re trying to bribe it? Don’t insult this one.”
Cold stiffened at this one’s laugh. “What this one is doing is offering a very reasonable proposal to bring this entire little crisis to an end. If you leave Freeport, then this one can convince the Council to allow the Masks to clean up your organization inside of an afternoon. Instead of allowing this chaos to go on and on, we can return peace to the streets and bring this farce to an end almost immediately.”
“Though that does bring up a question.” This one stroked its cheek. “Why hasn’t the Council let you just do that? During the months this one was gone, they had plenty of opportunities and reasons to do so. You certainly would have pushed for them to do just that. Yet they hadn’t. So why is that, Cold?”
Cold’s eyes narrowed. “This one isn’t at liberty to explain the Council’s motivations.”
This one snorted. Cold was throwing up smoke. “We both know that’s a load of horseapples. What’s the matter? You don’t like competing with the private market in the spy business? Because what does it say about you and the Masks when the Council decides it would rather pay this one to do a job than use their own intelligence agency?”
Cold put on a mask of careful neutrality, but this one could see the anger seething behind his mask. “The Council’s reasons are their own. Seven million ducats, you get on a ship as soon as possible and never come back.”
This one smirked as it enjoyed making Cold squirm. “So are you using your own money for this bribe, or are you using Mask funds?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Because this one wants to know if you’re misappropriating Mask funds,” this one told him. “Considering the Council has made it clear they wish for this one to try to regain control of its organization, they might not appreciate you using allocated government funds to undercut their designs. What would they say if this one told them about this little meeting?”
“The Masks have considerable leeway in how they use their funds to accomplish our objectives,” Cold immediately shot back.
“‘Our’ objectives?” This one let those words hang in the air. “When did the objectives of the Masks and the Council become something different?”
Cold didn’t deign to answer this one’s question. “Ten million. Think of it this way: your organization is fractured, and you’ve nearly been killed multiple times already trying to put the pieces back together. Now would be a very good opportunity to buy out of this predicament you put yourself into. As things stand, you might be killed by one of your lieutenants or a rival, not to mention the Council’s patience will eventually come to an end, and quicker than you would like now that the street war is heating up thanks to your return. If you take this money, this one promises that your legal assets here in Freeport will be left alone and that you’ll be allowed to keep making a profit off of them. Take this one’s deal, and move someplace else in the world and live a nice, long, comfortable life. It’s the best deal you’re ever going to get.”
Those were all good points, but this one wasn’t really interested in money. Oh sure, money was immensely useful for this one’s goals—that’s why this one had accumulated as much wealth as it had. But there was a big difference between accumulating wealth because it served a purpose and just making money for the sake of having more money.
But then, Cold always did have a bit of trouble really understanding what motivates people. This one couldn't help but pull Cold’s tail a little. It paid to keep someone like him guessing what this one was really up to and why. “For ten million? Come on, this one’s insulted, it’s worth more than that. You belong to one of the great magnate families of Freeport, and ten million is the best you can come up with? What’s the matter, has your family hit on hard times?”
This one heard Cold’s teeth grinding together. “Fifteen million.”
“Better, but not quite where this one wants to be.” This one flashed its teeth in a smirk. “Sure, things look dire right now, but this one has a way of pulling victory out of the jaws of defeat. It’s one of the many reasons why Double prefered this one over you. This one excels under pressure, where you tend to fold. This one already has the Alya-mare back under its hoof, and—”
Cold surprised this one when he started chuckling. “The Alya-mare is back under your control? Is that what you think?”
This one frowned, not liking the feeling for where this was going. “What are you talking about?”
“What this one is saying is that you shouldn’t be so quick to trust the Alya-mare.” Cold stood up and walked up to this one. “You’ve been gone for a long time and are still out of the loop. True, you have a long history with the Alya-mare, but time has a way of eroding even the strongest of bonds. Especially when they’ve been neglected due to distance and ... other priorities taking precedent. Tell this one, how has the Alya-mare been feeling about all the time and effort you’ve been putting into the Shimmer-mare, and that Equestrian spy you’re sleeping with?”
This one rolled its eyes. “Don’t play games with this one. It isn’t so stupid as to fall into rampant paranoia just because you cast a little suspicion. This one works with facts, and unless you’ve got something concrete you can cut the horseapples.”
“Oh, this one has something concrete for you. Consider this little nugget to be a personal favor as one former Mask agent to another.” Cold leaned in to whisper into this one’s ear. “The Alya-mare knows where the Penny-mare is.”
This one kept a very careful mask on as its heart skipped a beat. A dozen questions started whirling in this one’s head: Was this true? Was Cold lying? Why was he telling this one this? Was he trying to stir the pot to try and create a destructive rift between this one and the Alya-mare? How should this one react to this news? Did the Alya-mare really know where this one’s secretary was? Was she actually behind the kidnapping, or did she merely know who had the Penny-mare?
When this one didn’t immediately react, Cold smirked and patted this one on the shoulder. “Twenty million ducats. That is this one’s final offer. See this one by the end of the day if you’re interested.”
At that, he left the living room to head out to the back. This one stood there in silence as its thoughts whirled. A whole range of possibilities and questions danced, facts were put together, disassembled, and then put back together in new patterns, only for the whole process to be restarted.
This one’s steps were leaden when it eventually brought itself to follow Cold. Double was sitting on his porch, a book and a cup of rum sitting on a stand next to him as he watched the rain fall on the beach and the ocean beyond. During a sunny day the scenery could be a welcome sight, but at that moment the gloom and rain dampened the effect. Cold made his final goodbyes to Double before departing, taking most of the Mask agents with him.
When Cold was gone, Double turned to this one. “You going to make your goodbyes as well?”
This one took a deep breath. “Sorry. This one wishes it could stay, but something just came up.”
Double shrugged, his ears slightly drooped. “As such things tend to do. It’s nice to get to see you now and again, you know.”
A pang of guilt ran through this one. It had been months since this one had last seen Double, and after barely a hoofful of words with its old mentor this one was already departing. Time and its constant, inexorable march forward always felt like this one’s bane. Every second opportunities passed, limiting this one’s options, taking away all this one wanted to do. “This one knows. It’ll try and visit you again soon, once things settle down a bit.”
Double smiled at this one. “See that you do. An old changeling like this one likes to see his protegees now and again, you know.” His smile disappeared as he watched Cold and his followers slowly disappear into the gloom. “You know, this one has never entirely trusted him. This one isn’t convinced he really has Freeport’s best interests at heart.”
“Then why did you promote him as much as you did?” This one tried to keep its voice even, but only partially succeeded. Given everything that had happened, it was difficult not to feel bitter. Cold had derailed this one’s entire life by sending it into exile. This one had gone from having a successful career in a job it loved to being shunted off to the most irrelevant speck on the map Cold could find with a small army’s worth of bounty hunters and assassins on its trail. Perhaps if Double hadn’t trusted Cold with as much power as he had, then maybe this one wouldn’t have used up precious years of its life in exile. There was so much good this one could have done as the head of the Masks. This one could have stabbed right into the heart of the corruption plaguing Freeport and set up plans to reform this one’s home.
But now, that was never going to happen. Cold had seen to that.
Instead, this one had spent those long years in exile, and Cold had successfully purged the Masks of anyone he didn’t trust. A lot of competent agents had lost their jobs or worse; the Masks was still an organization to be reckoned with, but Cold’s leadership had reduced it from the heights it had reached under Double. When personal loyalty was considered the most important quality of an agent, the quality of work being done was going to suffer to a degree. Not to mention the ends they were working towards these days.
While this one treasured its time adventuring with the Do-mare, it wasn’t hard to see that period of this one’s life as an interruption to some degree. Even once this one returned to Freeport, it took years of hard work to build up this one’s resources, contacts, wealth, and influence. Even then, there had been delays, missed opportunities, and setbacks that ate up this one’s limited time. Tick, tick, tick, how long before this one got itself killed, or grew so old that it ended up like Double? What then for all this one’s work? What would this one have to show for it? Would an organization eating itself alive be this one’s legacy to the world? Was this one doomed to have Cold get the last laugh in this grand play where this one fought a hopeless battle against time and entropy?
Double swirled his drink, slow to answer. After several moments he turned to this one. “This one is sorry. What was that? This one’s hearing isn’t what it once was.”
This one kept its patience with its old, ailing mentor. “Why did you promote Cold when you didn’t trust him.”
“Ah. Him.” Double sipped his drink. “Politics is the short of it. He had powerful patrons who wanted to see him promoted. That, and he is a good agent. One of the best this one ever trained. He was useful, and so this one used him.”
“Yes, that does make some sense.” Cold did belong to an old and powerful family, the type of family that could pull strings to get things done in Freeport. It was a big part of the reason why he had ascended as high as he had. Where this one came from relatively humble origins, he’d had all the influence he needed built right into his family. There was more to everything than simple family connections, but it played an important part.
“Don’t worry too much about it.” Double waved the issue off and turned to watch the rain fall. “Everything will be alright as long as he isn’t put in charge of the Masks, and that won’t be happening as long as this one has a say in it.” This one winced as Double took a sip of his drink. “This one has high hopes in you, Puzzle. This one knows you can make a difference out there.”
This one's ears flattened. Those words tore at this one. What would Double have thought of everything if he could see it with a clear and healthy mind? How ashamed would he be of this one? “Thank you, sir.”
“That reminds this one. You need to ... to...” Double frowned as he blinked a few times. “This one is sorry, what were we talking about again?”
This one’s throat tightened as Double slipped a little more into the past and beyond this one’s reach. “The old days. We were talking about the old days.”
“Of course, of course.” He smiled paternally. “Did I ever tell you the story of how I met your dad?”
“No,” this one lied, letting him slip into better times.
Double chuckled to himself. “It’s quite the story. It was at the Callipso’s Brothel, and this one was following up a lead on an alchemist who was selling to someone this one was after. It was as this one was speaking with the madam of the house when...”
This one half listened to the story it had heard multiple times as it thought long and hard about what it was going to say to the Alya-mare about the Penny-mare.
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Hmm. And how does he know that? I imagine the Masks get some degree of information about those meetings, but an exact transcript?
Also, I find myself wondering just how much of Double's dementia is really what it seems, as opposed to something externally applied. Some of those moments of drifting off feel a bit too convenient.
In any case, Puzzle has a lot to think about, and to doscuss with Ayla. We'll see the truth soon enough, likely including whatever Cold doesn't want him to discover.
Cold Comfort seems a little too eager to have Puzzle leave Freeport, even with their history.
As for Blackwing, it sounds like if Puzzle kills whoever's bought him out he might fall back in line. Hopefully he will have an opportunity to prove his loyalty.
Honestly, I don't trust Cold at all. He could be telling the truth about Alya, or that could have been a lie to try and get Puzzle to accept his deal. Not that I particularly trust any of Puzzle's former lieutenants at this point either.
So clearly Cold's promotion went over his head? Cus well...that happened.
Man the mental headaches. It seems he can reliably trust Strumming and Sunset.
Hm, and things get even stranger. Cold Comfort was the most obvious mastermind for something like this (the collapse of Puzzle's organization) but with him trying to just pay Puzzle to leave Freeport, maybe its either not him or his plan isn't going as well as it seems. Otherwise I just expected him to sit back and gloat while watching Puzzle fail. Though unfortunately its hard to discount anything he says either. He can't be trusted but that doesn't necessarily mean he's lying about everything.
Sad to see an old mentor like that. Though at that age its also hard to tell how much is real, drugged or even just faking it. He probably still remembers too many secrets for the Masks to just leave him alone. Too bad this was mostly a dead end (I expect Blackwing to be a problem until the end, not this early) and now Puzzle has to worry about Alya even more. I hope its a good sign that Cold just tried to buy out Puzzle but still too early to tell.
Good chapter. Was wondering when Cold was going to show up. This chapter all but confirmed what I'd already suspected, that Cold was the one to start the whole civil war. The final scene with Puzzle and Double was some good melancholy to break up the tension, and hit a little close to home as someone who's had family deal with dementia. Speaking of...
9815517
That would be the dementia making him forget. Trust me, that disease is just not fun for anyone involved.
9815675
Well he definitely forgot that Cold got his job, but I was taking more along the lines of something must have happened if what happened goes against Double's wishes.
Well now, someone has stepped out into the sunlight when he really shouldn't have. Cold Comfort, the Masks, and an exorbitant budget. They would have the resources and influence to do everything that has happened, and the motivation to go after Puzzle in particular.
9815517 Actually, since Double's "dementia" started as soon as he retired, I suspect it was caused by Cold to ensure that he got control.
9815464
It's Strongly Implied, if not outright stated that He's On The Council
9816458
Yes, but I wouldn't expect him to all but say so. I suppose it's one of those "I know you know I know" situations.
9816368
Double was already old by the time Puzzle got exiled by Cold. I think he already had the beginnings of dementia naturally and Cold probably pulled a lot of strings to gain control of the Masks. I don't think Cold really needed to do anything to Double.
Puzzle was really keeping Cold on the ropes there, so much so that Cold used what may be his only ace: telling Puzzle that Alya can't be trusted. It was effective, but unless Cold is putting on the best show of his life, if it's his only means of getting Puzzle out without outright killing him, I think Puzzle's got this one.
Speaking of 'this one'; 219 of them in this chapter! I absolutely love it! I love that Changelings have their own way of referring to themselves, and the author's dedication to it really shows when there are 3 changelings in the same room talking to one another. Bravo! I know it might be a strange thing to compliment on, but, hey, I just like it.
That's not good. Another faction in the fight?
Ahh, that makes sense.
Interesting.
I'm pretty willing to get on board the "Cold Comfort triggered this entire mess" theory.
Sunset is rising too fast for certain people in Freeport's happiness, I bet what's really going on is that certain factions are trying to weaken her by destroying Puzzle.
Because Puzzle visibly failing to salvage his organizational crisis destroys his position faster.
Dang.
Be careful to not ruin your relationship with Alya based on what could easily be your rival's lies or half-truths.
Not gonna lie, after Cold's surprise appearance, I was half expecting him to transform into Blackwing halfway through the meeting.
i0.kym-cdn.com/entries/icons/facebook/000/019/023/Screenshot_161.jpg
"IT WAS ME, PUZZLE! IT WAS ME ALL ALONG!"
Considering what one saw Cold's methods in City of Giants it does not come as
suprise that he would have a snafu so soon after rising in command.
9864426
Northern Venture
Lessons Ventured
My late grandfather died around a decade ago, for several years before that he had a form of dementia (at the time we thought it was alzheimers) and yeah, he went from a strange but intensly intelligent man to a veritable vegetable who couldn't do anything on his own.
Here's hoping that Double is comfortable. Doubly hoping that his dementia is natural. Puzzle is certainly not a saint, but Cold strikes me as only loyal to two things himself and whoever's got the ducats. Oh he might have been a bright-eyed apprentice once upon a time but that grub is long since gone.