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The City was behind them, a march stolen on House Colvan, let alone the other Houses who would come after a pair of anonymous, unaffiliated plotters, lest they be next; after the Houses had filled the power-struggle vacuum their plan had gifted upon House Colvan, that was.
Alchemists knew Alchemists. Vaya knew he would have to assume a new name, and fake a licence, and provenance, and all manner of things, and –-
At least Concordia was with him.
“I hesitate to say,” Vaya began, “that–”
“--then don’t,” Concordia finished. “Revenge has been served. Clara Soria hosts the expansion of House Soria; House Colvan has fallen; the Van Tassen transmutation engine has been dissolved; our dedication to that House too. We flee for our involvement with it. What exactly could you help us with now, without the engine?”
Concordia took a deep breath.
“Anateus, I’m sorry. Just–”
Anateus had a serious look on his face.
“Concordia, did you ever consider that I knew how to undertake alchemical engineering without the transmutation engine?”
Concordia blinked, her voice low. “Ana…” She cleared her throat. “Anateus. You.. That night of hefting the Van Tassen alchemical engine out of the burning building into the streets? We– We could have avoided that? Wouldn’t you have started your alchemy as soon as we escaped?”
Anateus grimaced. “I– well, I don’t know. I only learned how to use the transmutation engine in my finals. Hand-alchemy, the crux of which I studied, it was… is, inefficient, and we lacked base elements, in any case. The transmutation engine was available, and helped separate all of that gin into the base elements we needed. Plus, we’d still have to have stolen the lead for the base metallic elements; so Nils would have led us to Clara anyway. For whom it was good that we had the engine.”
Concordia shook her head. “In more sensible times, you would be the Alchemist for House Soria, after all you’ve done. Why not, when our revenge was done?”
Anateus paused, and Concordia came to a stop, the two of them standing alone in the midst of rolling hills and grass, blades tickling their shoes, miles trekked from The City.
The alchemist sighed. “You asked me a week ago, Con–” Anateus paused, almost unsure why he had abbreviated Concordia’s name. “You asked, why I was pursuing this with you. Well – I did tell you the truth. Alchemy is my purpose. But – I, well, I do not know what to say about the rest of my motivations.”
The sun was high in the sky; enough time to figure this out. “Sit,” Concordia managed, and both of them sat, unclean clothes finding the grass underthemselves, no such thing present in the City. It tickled.
“Anateus,” she started. “I would not like to find you are now an agent from another House.”
“Hardly likely,” Anateus stated, scowling. “Only that in retrospect the de-facto revocation of my alchemical licensure was not my sole motivation to continue with alchemy.”
“Then? Please do not tell me you were using it as an excuse to conduct research.”
Anateus winced. “Well… a little. More importantly, Concordia… I am in love with you.”
Concordia’s eyes never left his face. “Why?”
Anateus’ expression was serious as ever. “Because you are sardonic, wry, you ground me, and you are experienced and loyal. Must I continue?”
Concordia leaned forward, her face into his, a small smile writ upon her lips.
“Anateus… Don’t ever give up alchemy.”
She kissed him.
Her lips landed on his, the soft press of flesh into his, and he tried to reciprocate, taken aback by Concordia’s sudden move. And it was over far too soon.
“Con–”
“This really isn’t the place,” Concordia smiled, her lips an inch from his, Anateus’ awkward hands over her waist.
“I’ll stop, then.”
“Ana, you are an idiot. I’m not made of elements. You don’t have to be precise with me,” Concordia smiled. “It’s not the place. And we’re still going to do it.”
She kissed him again, and this time, Anateus relented.