Book 2 Chapter 47 - Fools and Followers

I believe someone is protecting the killer.

I don’t know who, and I don’t know why.

All I know is that, well. We aren’t chasing a genius here.
This is no once in a life-time brilliant mind.
We aren’t being led around like cats following a red dot.

The Cruel Ivy Killer is sloppy. Stupid, even.
He is free not due to his own brilliance.

Rather... someone else wants him free.
Whoever this is, they are the ones standing in our way.
—Lyle Lupin, Public Statement

“Miss Asher. I am fairly certain you were told to come to my office a full hour ago. In fact, I am convinced we agreed you’d visit me well before today,” Mr. Bouvier reprimanded.

“Sorry, boss, I’ve been a bit sleepy this past week,” Violet apologized.

The headmaster gave her a flat stare. “I believe we had an agreement. And I held up my end. You have everything you asked me for. So why, after you made contact with Cyan Asher, did you not report to me?” he asked.

Violet shrugged. “I didn’t really have anything to report. I mean. He is an unpleasant and arrogant jerk. But I suspect that has something to do with enlisting my help in the first place,” Violet answered. “I didn’t think you’d want your time wasted when I had nothing of value to tell you. And I’ve been a bit distracted in any case. Apologies,” Violet answered. Her voice was anything but apologetic, and it was reflected in Bouvier’s nonplussed expression.

“Is that so? He asked for nothing from you? No favors at all, is that right?” Bouvier pushed.

“Not as of yet,” Violet responded with a smile.

“And yet you received the money you needed to free Miss Mulberry from confinement? And to fund a personal reserve of potions for your fireteam? All for free, was it? Cyan must have grown more magnanimous since last I saw him,” Bouvier deadpanned.

“Nope, he’s still a piece of garbage,” Violet replied. “I said he hasn’t asked for his favor yet, not that he hasn’t asked for a favor. I owe him an unspecified favor, apparently.”

Bouvier sighed and began rubbing his temples. “You agreed to a deal with a Category Violet with an unspecified price? Miss Asher. I’m not entirely sure how to respond to that. It’s not simply irresponsible. It’s frankly stupid. How do you realistically believe that is going to end for you?” he asked.

“Well, my friend was in trouble. I didn’t think of hiring her attempted murderer at my school, so asking my uncle to post bail was kind of my only option,” Violet mocked.

Bouvier let out an exasperated breath. “I’m trying to help you, Violet. All I ask is that you help me in return. Or I will need to offer a firmer hand again,” he said.

“Again?” Violet asked, raising an eyebrow curiously. 

“This is bigger than the two of us. You have no idea how important this is. It matters more than my pride, and it matters more than yours. You may not have learned anything that mattered to you. But you live in a microscopic world. Every detail might matter, even if you don’t think it does. What was Cyan wearing? Who else was around? Did he use any talents on you? Hell, the very fact that he asked you for a future favor is pertinent. Next time you visit the Asher estate, I expect you to report everything. Do you understand?” he said.

“What do you mean again?” Violet pressed.

“Do you understand?” Bouvier repeated. 

He leaned back in his chair, and Violet leaned forward in her seat across from him. The battle of wills was silent for several stretched seconds, and Bouvier broke first.

“I need you to appear as valuable as possible, Miss Asher. The higher your category, the more useful you will be to Cyan. And the more useful you will be to me. I was willing to aid you in your advancement the kind way. But when I am ignored, I will use whatever methods I must. You took the carrot for granted. So I offered the stick. You went out of your way to help free Miss Mulberry. And I hired her father. You went into the mist. And I ensured it would be a fruitful assignment,” he explained with an exhausted tone. 

Violet tried not to react, but her fingers did dig into her legs as the headmaster spoke. “Fruitful results?” she asked.

Bouvier rolled his chair back and opened a drawer. He pulled a cheap bottle out with a single glass and poured brown liquid into it. It had a sharp scent that made Violet wrinkle her nose, but he simply took a drink before responding.

“We have ways to draw hedron out, if we need to. Or to attract them to a particular place. Or... a particular person. And, bleeding heart that Mr. Clay is, he still follows orders. Or he wouldn’t be at this school at all. Do you understand what I’m saying, Violet?” he replied.

Violet’s expression flattened as she processed what he was saying. And a lot of things started to make sense. Not everything, but recent events, at least. The reason Mr. Clay hadn’t intervened until... well, until immediately after the threat had been eliminated. And the number of hedron that had responded to Violet’s mental command. She’d understood neither when they happened. But she remembered the bait that had been used on her first trip into the mist. She’d need to examine her gear when she got a chance. She didn’t much like being set up.

“People could have died, Abel,” Violet responded with a voice of ice. 

“No,” he denied. “No, you could have died. Virgil would have saved anyone else in trouble. But you? Well, if you were to meet an unfortunate end, I suppose you wouldn’t be so useful to me after all, would you?”

Violet paused for a moment. She didn’t like the implication. That Clay had been watching the entire time. He would almost certainly have seen her talent, in that case. And she wasn’t planning to reveal that one yet. Not without more practice, and a lot more dexterity. Fortunately, she didn't believe Mr. Bouvier. There was truth to his words, certainly. 

But if she was right... Mr. Clay couldn't be ordered to allow a specific student to die. She was almost certain of it. As irritating as the man was, he did care when students were hurt. She was willing to gamble on that. It was far more likely that the headmaster had distracted the teacher somehow. No one had seen Quiet Ivy. 

“I really am going to kill you someday,” Violet whispered after a heavy moment.

“Maybe, Violet. Maybe you will. And you know what? If we can bring the Asher family down together, you and I? It will be worth it. But both goals are out of our reach, at the moment. So until then, report to me immediately after every meeting with Cyan Asher. Understood?” Bouvier replied. 

“Oh, I understand,” Violet replied with a sweet smile.

Bouvier shook his head and rubbed his temples. “Show me your new talent. You hit orange, correct? Hand on the desk, now. Let me see,” he ordered.

Violet couldn't wait to kill this man.

But he was right. She didn't have the means just yet. So, as much as it made her itch, she did as she was told. “You’ll know when it's about to happen. Not just by the smile on my face. I’ll make it clear. I’ll explain exactly why you're going to die. I’ll even tell you when. And you still won't avoid it,” she said. Her new talent carved itself into his desk as she spoke. Not exactly as it actually was, but close. “Sharp Eyes.” A talent for finding weak points in hedron and nests. 

Bouvier examined it curiously. “A type of scrying ability. Rare. But useful. It won't work on Cyan, of course. If it works on people at all. Don't test that. It's a serious crime to use scrying talents without auth—” Bouvier stopped as he looked up to see Violet’s blacked-out eye.

“Nope,” she replied. “You're right. It doesn't work.”

Much to her chagrin, she was telling the truth. After it had worked on a Category Green, she was hopeful that it didn't have limits. It seemed, instead, that she simply didn't understand what they were.

Abel Bouvier was already exhausted with Violet Asher.

She was pushing the envelope. He knew that. Testing him to see where his limits were. She wasn't stupid. She wouldn't speak like that to anyone else in his position. She wanted to see exactly how much he needed her. And she was calling his bluff. She didn't believe he was entirely responsible for her recent near-death experience.

Which was frustratingly accurate, since it had been his sponsor’s decision. And that same sponsor wouldn't care how respectful Violet was. Just so long as she could advance enough to learn the Ashers’ secret. The one thing they would only tell their most valuable members. 

His sponsor was right, of course. That goal mattered more than anything. More than Abel's life, and more than the lives of his students. It was just a shame the other man was such an idiot.

Abel was between a rock and a hard place. Violet wasn't going to be easily managed. Of the wanted results, she needed to feel like she was in control. She needed to believe she was smarter than he was. If she believed he was a fool, she would let her guard down. 

He understood the need to push her to green, at least. Maybe even cyan, if they wanted to be certain. But if they made an enemy out of her before that happened, what would be the point?

Yet they’d forced that stunt on him with the red queen. He’d presented it as a punishment as he’d been ordered, but it was the wrong move. Their impatience was going to burn the most promising asset he’d ever recruited.

It was all a massive headache. Especially since he’d already lost a different asset so recently. He was going to need to be very careful to balance everything. Thankfully, Violet was finally in Category Orange. He didn't have anyone red to follow her before. Whenever she went to the lowest district, he lost track of her. But orange? He had an arrangement with another student for that. A girl with the “Operator” calling. An orange eight. 

As if summoned by his thoughts, the timid student knocked on his doorframe. He looked up and waved her in. She shuffled inside and paused as she decided whether to close the door. The answer was obviously that she should, but the kid had the fortitude of wet toilet paper. She was also, thankfully, very good at what she did. And she had excellent talents for stalking. A better scout than Violet, by talents alone. Although, likely less competent in combat.

“Closed, Ms. Hatheway,” he instructed. She jumped a bit, but nodded and closed the door. She didn't sit down. Instead, she started to pace and bite her thumbnail.

“K–Koral hasn't done anything suspicious, still,” she explained nervously. “I would have reported to you right away if she had!”

Abel waved her off. He’d thought Koral might’ve been a Nightshade at first, considering her diagnosis, but that had been a false alarm. Possibly even Shephard trying to waste his time. But Merryl was a new asset, and he wanted to see how the spy would do. So he’d left her monitoring the new student. It had been a decent—and safe—test of the girl’s skill. As well as her loyalty. Considering the operator’s motives for helping, he was fairly certain he could trust her already. But Merryl’s dedication to her assigned task had driven the point home.

It was time to make actual use of her talents.

“I’m taking you off Koral, Ms. Hatheway,” Abel said. “I believe it's clear by now that the girl is no threat.”

Merryl visibly relaxed the moment she heard this. “Oh, thank God. I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep this up,” she replied. “Was it enough? Will you pay off the debt?” 

Abel sighed and shook his head. “Watching an innocent girl for a few months hardly earns you that much money. I’m afraid I have a new assignment for you.” 

Merryl tensed again. “Oh,” she whispered.

“You’ll have much more personal time with this one, worry not. I simply need you to follow a particular student when she leaves campus. She doesn't do so every day, and she likely won't for the next week. She is still healing, after all,” he assured her. 

“Healing?” Merryl asked. 

“From her fight with a queen last week. I know you’re familiar with her by now. I’ve heard the whispers in the halls of my school. The legends of Violet Asher. Well, I want you to keep an eye on her.”