Lorn Kael's Arc

Chapter 2 of 6

Three days after Lena Everly wrote his coins into her ledger, Lorn Kael could not sleep. He sat in the old fort, watching the wolfhound pace. The ledger tracked every mat, every sword, every sack of grain Silvain bought. One clerk who followed that trail would find the academy. And a curious clerk always came. Lorn had to reach the greeter before the trail led anyone to his door. He found her at the gate at dawn, ledger already open, welcoming a merchant caravan. Lena Everly smiled at each stranger, shook a hand, then wrote. Her pen never stopped. Lorn watched her mark down cargo he could not see. This was the woman who could ruin him, and she looked delighted to do it. "You're the singer's friend," she said, not looking up. "The charity buyer. I remember the coins." "I need a word," Lorn said. "Alone." She closed the ledger and stepped aside. Lorn drew out a weathered letter, its creases soft from handling. He had carried it for years. His brother had written it before the Empire took him. The words traced a name, a debt, a promise unpaid. "Your brother," Lorn said. "He served in the fourth. So did mine. This letter names the officer who sold their unit to save himself." He held it out. "You've been searching. I know how a person hunts a name through paper." Lena's smile fell. Her hand shook as she took the letter. She read it twice. "How did you get this?" "I was a ghost once," Lorn said. "Ghosts keep things." She pressed the paper to her chest. For a moment the bright greeter was gone. Only a sister remained. "The academy," she said slowly. "The one the singer funds. It's yours." Lorn said nothing. Silence was answer enough. "Broken soldiers," she said. "Men like my brother." She looked at the ledger in her other hand. "If I write the truth, a clerk finds you. If I write nothing, my superiors find me." "Then write it false," Lorn said. "Split the buys across a dozen small charities. No single trail. No number worth chasing." She stared at him a long time. Then she opened the ledger and drew a hard line through the charity entry. Beneath it she wrote three smaller sums under names Lorn did not know. "The letter is mine now," she said. "And the ledger lies for you. But I want the officer's name spoken aloud in your school. Teach them who sold their brothers." "Agreed," Lorn said. A grin cracked his scarred face before he could stop it. Lena Everly saw it and almost smiled back. Then the greeter returned. She shut the ledger and turned to the next stranger at the gate. The paper trail was dead. But now a clerk with a grudge sat inside his secret, and Lorn had promised her a name he could not yet deliver.