Chapter 19: The Shape of a Rumor III
I didn't go with him.
That part was important.
Children weren't meant to walk into city halls carrying propositions that could shake a territory. Children were meant to listen, to be protected, to be dismissed. So when Eldrin Vaelor straightened his coat, tucked his ledgers under one arm, and stepped out of the alley toward the inner districts, I stayed behind.
Watching.
Waiting.
The rumor had changed shape again.
It was no longer whispers in backstreets or coughs echoing through narrow homes. It had become intent… sharp, directional. Something that wanted to move forward.
And now it had a mouth.
Eldrin Vaelor walked into the City Lord's domain just after midday, when the offices were busiest and denial was hardest to maintain. That was deliberate. I knew it the moment Jucelis pointed it out, murmuring under his breath about timing and pressure. Eldrin hadn't said anything, but his instincts screamed calculation. A man like him didn't gamble blindly, he stacked the board first.
By the time word reached the ducal estate, the first meeting had already ended.
I heard about it from servants first.
Murmurs, cautious excitement, confusion.
"A man from the lower districts"
"says he has a proposal…"
"something about containment"
Patrick heard it next.
I wasn't there when the summons came, but I imagined it easily enough. A messenger kneeling, speaking carefully. A duke pausing mid-signature. A silence forming… not from surprise, but from recognition.
Patrick Ayer didn't dismiss threats because they came wrapped in incompetence. He had lived through a war born from underestimating smaller dangers.
Eldrin was brought to the estate by evening.
Not escorted.
Escorted would imply respect.
He was escorted the way one escorts a blade found near a sleeping child.
I saw him from a distance when he entered the main hall, dust-stained boots hastily cleaned, posture stiff, eyes alert in every direction. He didn't look triumphant. He didn't look afraid either.
He looked like a man who knew the price of miscalculation and was ready to pay it.
Patrick stood at the far end of the chamber, hands resting behind his back, armor exchanged for formal wear but presence unchanged. Melinda wasn't there. This wasn't a family matter. This was governance.
The City Lord spoke first, summarizing. Carefully. Neutrally. As if afraid the words themselves might tip something over.
Eldrin listened without interrupting.
Then Patrick spoke.
"You claim," he said, voice calm and measured, "that you possess a method capable of halting the spread of the sickness in the outer districts."
"Yes," Eldrin replied. No hesitation.
"Not curing it."
"No."
"Not purifying it."
"No."
Patrick tilted his head slightly. "Then what exactly are you offering?"
Eldrin inhaled.
"A way to stop the city from feeding it."
Silence fell.
Not disbelief.
Consideration.
He explained.
I didn't hear his words directly, but I heard their effect later from scribes, from attendants, from Patrick himself when he returned home deep in thought. The plan was laid out piece by piece, stripped of mysticism.
Separation of the sick from the healthy.
Temporary living quarters outside dense districts.
Water flow rerouted away from waste.
Food delivered, not gathered.
Ventilation adjusted.
Movement restricted strategically, not blindly.
None of it relied on magic.
That, more than anything, disturbed them.
Magic was certainty. Magic had priests, traditions, hierarchies. Magic placed responsibility on those already powerful. This plan placed responsibility on structure, and structure didn't bow.
When Eldrin finished, Patrick asked only one question.
"What do you gain from this?"
I imagined the moment clearly.
The pause.
The calculation.
The truth.
"I want to be paid," Eldrin said.
Not extravagantly. Not endlessly.
Paid for the solution. Paid for the results.
The City Lord bristled.
Patrick did not.
He studied Eldrin the way a commander studies terrain, mapping risk, advantage, and consequence.
Then he made his decision.
Eldrin Vaelor was to be imprisoned beneath the castle.
No chains.
No torture.
No trial.
Held until the results of his proposal became clear.
If the sickness worsened, he would be executed for sabotage.
If it spread unchecked, he would be remembered as the man who tried to profit from panic.
If it slowed…
Only then would negotiations resume.
When I heard this, my first reaction surprised me.
Relief.
Not for Eldrin.
For the plan.
Patrick had done exactly what I hoped he would contain the variable until outcomes could be measured. He didn't reject the idea, nor did he trust the man behind it. He isolated both.
It was harsh.
It was fair.
And it worked.
Days passed.
Then weeks.
Reports came in quietly at first.
Fewer new cases.
Shorter recovery times.
Outer districts stabilizing.
Healers were less overwhelmed, not because they worked less, but because they weren't fighting fires blindfolded anymore.
The sickness hadn't vanished.
But it had stopped advancing.
That alone was enough.
Eldrin Vaelor was released.
Paid.
And summoned.
This time, Patrick met him alone.
No City Lord. No scribes.
Just a duke and a man who had survived being inconvenient.
"You were fortunate," Patrick said.
Eldrin smiled thinly. "I prefer correct."
Patrick didn't return the smile.
Patrick's gaze sharpened.
"This solution," he said evenly, "did not originate with you."
Eldrin didn't answer immediately.
Then he laughed.
Not loudly… just enough to be disrespectful.
"Oh, absolutely not," he said, waving a hand. "You think I'd suddenly grow a conscience and design something this involved?"
Patrick's expression darkened. "Then who did?"
Eldrin leaned forward, elbows on his knees, grin widening.
"A group of children came to me."
Silence.
"They harassed me," he continued cheerfully. "Threatened me. Cornered me in my own workshop."
Patrick's brow twitched.
"And then," Eldrin added, tapping his chest, "they bribed me with what I love most."
He paused.
"Money."
The City Lord inhaled sharply.
Eldrin kept going, clearly enjoying himself now.
"So let me get this straight," he said. "They paid me to present a plan. Then you paid me for the same plan. Which means I've successfully convinced both a gang of children and a ruling duke to fund my brilliance."
He spread his hands.
"Making fools of you both."
The temperature in the room dropped.
Patrick stared at him for a long moment, long enough that even Eldrin's grin began to falter.
"You will mind your tongue," Patrick said calmly.
Eldrin straightened at once.
"I apologize," he said quickly. "Poor joke. Occupational hazard."
Patrick turned away.
"Get out," he said.
The City Lord hesitated. "My lord…"
"Now."
Eldrin bowed, just deep enough to show he understood exactly how close he'd come to the edge.
As he was escorted out, Patrick spoke once more, without looking back.
"If I hear that you are mocking this territory again," he said, "your next joke will be told from a cell."
Eldrin swallowed.
"Understood."
And with that, he was gone.
Eldrin was dismissed.
But not forgotten.
That evening, he found me.
I hadn't expected him to come alone. I hadn't expected him to come at all.
He stood at the edge of the training courtyard, watching as I practiced slow, deliberate movements with a wooden blade, movements I'd repeated thousands of times now. When I noticed him, he raised a hand in greeting, casual, almost friendly.
"You owe me," he said.
"I paid you," I replied.
He snorted. "That was survival. I'm talking about opportunity."
I said nothing.
He studied me for a long moment, eyes sharper than before.
"You hid well," he said finally. "Most children with ideas like yours can't stop themselves from wanting credit."
"I don't want credit," I answered.
"Then what do you want?"
I turned to face him fully.
"I want someone adults will listen to."
Silence.
Then a slow, thoughtful smile spread across his face.
"You're proposing a partnership."
"A temporary one," I said. "Until I'm old enough."
"And what do I get?"
I looked him in the eye.
"Profit," I said. "Influence. And protection."
He laughed softly.
"You're dangerous," he said.
"I know."
He considered me carefully, then sighed.
"…Fine," he said. "But I set the terms of the public presentation."
"I set the direction," I replied.
He nodded. "Deal."
As he turned to leave, he paused.
"You know," he said, glancing back, "most people your age want toys."
"I already had those," I answered.
He didn't ask what I meant.
The rumor didn't disappear.
It transformed.
And now, it had a system behind it.
And a voice.
And soon…
A future.