that carried his devices. Secrecy really hadn't seemed an issue for an investigation. Having them made him look prepared though, didn't it? Once he had it down on the central table the King started talking again as if certain it would work. It did, but it hadn't been a sure thing. Well it was private now, spies or not. Kind of.
“I know Patricia. Once builders reach a certain level, it becomes hard to keep things from them and generally a bad plan in this case. He's already figured out half the spy network and I'd guess the other half won't take him much longer to work out now that he knows it's a possibility. From now on well just send people with a letter I guess. “Dear Tor, We've sent this girl to spy one you, have fun, love Rich.” Think that will work? Plus, he keeps doing such surprising things with all the ones sent at him. They keep ending up wealthy and well positioned. At least half a dozen haven't lasted more than a month in his presence, going off to a new job and life so quickly some here have wondered if it was on purpose.” The voice sounded questing.
Instead of answering, Tor just spoke, keeping his voice bland.
“We were about to question the witness?”
The tale was twisted, involved him and a lot of things she'd said to other people, some of them she meant, some lies to get people to think she was on their side. It was why she'd baited him when they last met and why she had glared at him earlier, though Trice did say it hurt when he'd stormed away like he had, because she knew he didn't have the information to understand.
Tor shrugged.
“I was acting. I'd kind of figured out what you had to be doing. You're not that mopey by nature, and if you felt that bad for real it wouldn't have been an attack, but tears and asking me to fix it. That or just telling me too. You can be a little entitled, you know? Anyway, if I get the time, I think I'm ready to try, the first version at least.”
“A magic arm?” Her voice was so skeptical it made Tor blush a little.
“Yes,” he told her gently. It may not be much, but it would be at least a little better than a metal hook. Maybe. If they got lucky. There was laughter at this, from him, but not from her, she looked determined.
“OK. I'll give you a month, but it better be special, a hook that glows or sparkles at least.” Now her voice sounded playful again, which sounded a lot more like the real her.
He could do that. Make it glow on command, or sparkle. Check.
There was a lot of anger in her directed at him too, which kind of seemed wrong. She was being honest, but it hurt to hear some of the things she thought.
Why hadn't he saved her arm instead of letting Karina chop it off? She knew for a fact that he couldn't have, and that Tor didn't even know to try, but he'd stopped the death dust in the air, couldn't he have stopped it on her hand? Karina caught some flak too. Trice was afraid of her now. Having nightmares about her coming to kill her in the dark, or take the remaining limbs. Cold sweats and panic attacks when she had to be around her for too long. That got an honest if hung-over gasp from the Princess on the other end of the communication device.
Who wouldn't be scared though? He was a little afraid of Varley and all she'd done was try to make her breaking up with him not hurt so bad. At least he thought that was her reason for doing what she had in the palace hallway.
When Smythe was satisfied, which took about a half hour of Tor bashing, most of it a lot less reasonable than him failing to save her arm, including for some reason a list of his faults, some of which he always took for virtues, like being focused on the task at hand, or being generous. She kept talking until Smythe, looking sidelong at Tor’s discomfort stopped her.
“So you truly dislike the boy? Tor here I mean?” At least the old guy didn't seem to be taking personal pleasure in it, but he did give Tor a funny look, as if wondering what he'd do about it maybe?
“What? No! I love him. I may whine about him sometimes, but that's just me being bitchy. It's my problem not his.” That, it was clear from the device making her glow so purely, was also true.
Tor had to duck his head, because he just didn't understand her at all. Was he awful or not? She wasn't lying, but it was too complex to understand. She'd said a lot of mean things about him, but loved him? He didn't talk, not knowing if that would be good or bad at all. Plus, there was the whole thing were she'd been ordered to watch him along with Sara, before he'd even known they were there. Months before. That part was just freaky.
Why watch him at all?
It was late luncheon by the time things broke up, but in all Smythe of Westend felt comfortable that the Wards did not order an attack on anyone, except Torrence Baker. That was almost funny, except that one way or another a lot of people had done that. Some more so than others but… Yeah, no doubt everyone here agreed that hurting him didn't really count. They were all royals after all and he was just… him.
As if to make a point of it no one else mentioned it again either. It should have made him mad, but it was just what was. If he wanted a fair world he'd have to make one, wouldn't he. Could he do that? Well, not from whole cloth, but remake the world into a better place? Um…
No.
Not the world. That would be too much. He might be able to help a few people over time, if he tried hard enough. That he could do. It was enough. It had to be, since it was all that Tor could realistically manage. It would do. If you can't be loved, don't let that stop you from loving others. He nodded a little to himself.
Another party was planned for that evening, since they were all suddenly free of suspicion, no one was planning a war, except against Austra, and everyone was relieved and happy about things. Tor felt down, but didn't want to drag anyone with him, so went to set up his house in the giant park out front, no bigger this time, but one of the new ones, so he could play around with decorating and making the outside look festive. This time it had three stories, so it did have more space really and he made the bottom one open except for strong, arched supports and central columns so that it looked like it would support weight easily and filled it with six giant tubs filled with water for people to play in, each one large enough for eight at a time easily. The baths all looked like gray stone, as if carved out of rock and the top looked like a mountain with widows on all sides. The inside of the space looked normal but in a dark green, to fit the park. The front lawn, Tor remembered looking around. That only killed about an hour, so he decided to work up something to help entertain people later. Why not, right? Besides he had an idea that he needed to check into.
He could do both at once. That was efficient even.
It took three hours even in the deep trance he was trying to use more often now, to get ready for the build on Trice’s arm. If he failed she'd probably hate him for real. Possibly forever. Who could blame her? If he'd been better, a true Master Builder, he would have stopped all the death dust in the area instantly, not just what he saw. It wouldn't have taken that much more if he would have thought to sense the nanos themselves, not just go after what was visible. He could do it now even.
Tor could have done it then.
Except he'd panicked, not knowing how to handle the situation, and just froze the stuff already in the air. God he sucked. Trice should hate him. She was right, and his personal failure had cost her arm.
The device was about as big as his fist and had a dozen sigils on it. He didn't know if it would be very partyish, it was more of a festival thing, but he hoped someone would at least like part of it. It was multifaceted and built to be fun, if a little more adult than he'd planned originally. Not too bad he hoped. People would think he was perverted or something if he'd overdone it. Then again, here in Ward they may not think anything of it at all.
The dinner was a whole roast pig, which looked incredible and had been cooking anyway, since it took a long time to cook that much meat. Over a day. They did it in pits they dug, which was a fascinating idea, one using layers of hot coals and earth to hold the heat for slow roasting, actually burying the animal. There were side dishes too, but it was too much work to care about them, he ate small portions and finished it all, but didn't get greedy.
Tor sat at a little table again, though Smythe of Westend had apparently found enough favor to make it to the big table up front. Trice sat next to him and he was between her and Maria, who kept touching his arm gently, as if concerned about his hand. The one mean old Tor took from him. Tor forced a smile to his face.
It had been a good day’s work and the Wards should be grateful to the older man. If Tor had proclaimed them innocent no one would have believed it at all. Trice looked at him occasionally and gave him dirty looks, so he just stopped making eye contact, the game of being a villain so that people would do whatever it was she hoped they would, wasn't as interesting at the moment for some reason.
If she wanted to play her little spy games she could do it without him.
