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The stone around Lurectia’s neck crackled with sudden energy, shocking her out of her words with Avi. She stuttered, momentarily, before excusing herself and stepping away. She heard Lucas Miller’s voice come through, panicked and frantic, as he explained the mess he had gotten himself into. The Philosopher's Stone was in his midst. She took a deep breath and rounded up the troops for the mission at hand.
She sent the reclaimers, of course, but sent the regulators down as well. Her fury with Lucas wasn’t only limited to the relic he’d stolen, the hubris in wielding such an artifact. She touched the stone around her neck after sending the team out, her fingers shaking. Eventually, she excused herself from the party all together, retiring to her office and closing the door behind her.
How did he get the frequency for this stone? She stared at it, glaring at it, as if it would tell her the secrets Lucas had used to hack it. If he could hack it, could others? Could Barry? It should have been a one way communication- only able to call the similar stone she’d insisted Davenport kept on himself at all times, in case…
After wonderland, Lucretia had to recognize her own potential mortality. While it would have been preferred that she continue to find the relics herself, to not put any of the others in danger, she had to remember the mission. It was maddening. After her year of horror on the judge’s plane, to have to once again sit back and witness, to direct? It was almost more than she could bear.
If she died, Davenport would never be returned to his previous capabilities. She’d promised Magnus in the last moments that she’d fix it, that it wouldn’t be forever. If she were to find herself compromised, her last action would be to call Davenport, to tell him where she’d kept Junior hidden and how to right her wrongs.
She’d crafted the stones herself.
“Davenport?” He’d asked, his eyes wide and glassy as he took the stone from her.
“Yes, this is a way for me to contact you in case of an emergency. In case I need your help, immediately. You must keep it on you at all times,” Lucretia spoke, her voice shaking in the way it only did when alone with Davenport. She knelt on the rug of her office, helping him tie the string to his bureau uniform.
He looked puzzled, pointing at the other stone in the office, on the desk, then reached into his pocket to show that he already had a stone.
“I know, I know, but this one is special. It only calls you, and only in an extreme emergency. Davenport. I need you to swear to me,” She took his hands, deathly serious, “I need you to swear to me that if you hear me over that stone, you will follow my instructions as closely and quickly as possible.”
Davenport nodded, squeezing one of her fingers. “Davenport.”
She examined her stone after Lucas Miller intercepted it, fuming and terrified of both the philosopher’s stone and the implications behind her communication being hackable. If Lucas Miller could figure it out, surely Barry or… Or Lup. A few hours passed, and there was a knock on her door. She looked up, her eyes filled with frustrated tears.
“Davenport?” She heard from behind the door, another soft knock at about gnome-height. Lucretia stood up. She owed it to him to answer. She walked to the door and swept it open, smiling as best she could.
“Yes, Davenport, come in. Thank you so much, that was very kind of you.” She pulled his chair out from under the small table, taking the tea from him. He stared at her, knowingly, and sat down.
“Davenport.” He pointed at the stone on the table. Lucretia’s neck felt bare without it, as though something had gone missing. She hadn’t taken it off since she’d created the contingency plan.
Lurectia hesitated, but Davenport did not lower his pointing hand, persistent and questioning, though she couldn’t imagine why. She cleared her throat. “Lucas Miller, do you remember him? Scientist? Ethically dubious? He spoke on the stone about the relic we-.. I. The relic I sent the reclaimers after.”
Davenport dropped his hand to his pocket and fished out his own stone, the one connected to Lucretia. He held it out to her. “Davenport?”
“That’s correct. It should only go to you, I suppose that’s why I’m upset. It’s…. Somewhat problematic if someone other than you and I can speak on these stones. As I’ve mentioned, they are for extreme emergencies. End of the world emergencies.”
He nodded, finishing pouring her tea, and held it out to her.
“Thank you. I’m sorry, I should be a bit more level headed with this. I doubt Lucas Miller will have the capabilities of, well, fucking with my shit, if you’ll pardon me, after the regulators are finished with him.”
She put the stone back around her neck, looking to Davenport. “Davenport, I do not want to lead you astray. If the capability to speak between our stones fell into the wrong hands, it could be cataclysmic to the entire mission of the Bureau of Balance.”
He made a small noise, almost a laugh, and pointed at himself incredulously.
“Yes, you, Davenport. You… You are much more instrumental than you could possibly realize. That is why we need to have a method of ensuring that we are who we say we are.”
He was silent, his tail swishing slightly, busying himself with adding too many sugars to his tea. Lucretia knew he was listening, he just had to have something for his hands to do. She’d witnessed the same behavior many times on the Starblaster, though it was painful to think about.
“Davenport, if someone calls you on that stone, wait for them to say…” She stared around her room, trying to think of a word for them, something safe. Sacred.
Her eyes stopped on her bookshelf, adorned with volumes and volumes of novels, encyclopedias, all of the information Faerûn had to offer. The only thing out of place was an ugly set of three sand dollars, lovingly crafted to be shaped like a mouse’s head. She smiled, painfully, the image of Merle holding it out to her burned into her brain.
“I will say,” She let out a deep sigh, staring again at the gift, “Fish hat. I’ll say fish hat and- stop laughing, Davenport, this is very serious.”
He chuckled a bit, “Davenport!”
“That ugly hat was given to me by a dear friend. I’ll say fish hat, and you’ll know it’s me. And if I don’t say that, do not listen to the person. Find me. Call me on your other stone, or find…. Find Avi, if you don’t know where I am. Do you understand?”
Davenport nodded, “Davenport.”
“Good. Good. Thank you, Davenport,” She stood up, opening the door for him to head out. As he left, she turned back to stare at the gift on her shelf, her portrait of her family, and the tea so lovingly made by someone she betrayed.
She touched the stone around her neck, taking a deep breath to steady herself before she stepped out to join Angus and the rest of the reclaimer’s team in assisting on their mission. It all rode on her shoulders. She had to keep going.
For Davenport.