She is currently among the ruins that her phone identifies as “Apollonia”, part of an ancient country called Illyria. In the present, there’s a village called Pojan nearby. To the west, she can barely see the ocean.
The Rook forces are deployed up the hill. They’ve got a few aircraft that don’t need runways - not helicopters, but something else. Charlotte has learned the term “VTOL” - “Vertical Takeoff and Landing” - applies to such craft.
Down the hill, armed men and women from Albania’s law enforcement stand ready. They are being held back by important-looking people who stand close to an official truck. The truck’s crest is an arm grasping a lightning bolt, and labeled “RENEA”. Charlotte’s phone informs her that RENEA is an elite group of military-type police that deal with violent crime and terrorists. Very well.
Of the two groups, the cops will be more likely to listen. They may not be interested in an outsider’s involvement, of course. On the other hand, Rook certainly won’t. Charlotte decides to start with the Albanians.
Charlotte has come to learn a very important thing about the Magus, and the staff that comes with the office. Part of the responsibility of the Magus is to deal with the Keynomes on Earth - and previous Magi have learned to tap, very gently, into the power the Keynomes possess. Charlotte is familiar with the principle. The Keynomes are power, and you don’t make direct demands of power. You make small talk and trade favors. She’s learned further from Leo that the Keynomes have something in common with a synthetic mind.
Thus, although she does not speak Albanian, she can converse with the RENEA forces here through an invocation of this power. She weaves the appropriate spell - simply a very formal request in a language long lost - and trusting in its power, presents herself very obviously to the cops. Guns go up instantly, of course, but one of the older cops waves them down.
Charlotte cannot see her through the helmet and its tinted visor, but she can appraise her anyway. This is an older woman, and Charlotte visualizes iron-gray hair and glaring eyes behind the mask. Time to make introductions.
“My name is Charlotte Palmer. I am the Magus of Earth. I represent only myself. My interest here is in a phenomenon known as a ‘wound in the world’. The wound is a danger to your people and your country. I wish to close it, to avert the danger it poses.”
She smiles her friendliest smile. “I’d like to work with you, of course. How can we cooperate?”
“Call me Kaltrina,” the RENEA woman answers. “Your Albanian is excellent. But you are not the speaker. I watched your lips.”
She’s curious, and slow to trust. Understandable. “You’re correct. I used a spell to translate my English into your language.”
Kaltrina nods, and gestures with a leather-gloved thumb behind her. “Most of the troops here do not speak English. I was trained in Quantico. Speak what you wish, if you speak only to me. I would prefer Albanian.”
Charlotte bows politely. It’s always best to be civil, even in the small things.
The cop then points up the hill. “These people. You know them?”
“They are a secret strike team from an American company called Rook Industries. We have had… dealings.” Charlotte isn’t going to bad-mouth even her enemies.
“They are here for this, uh, ‘wound’?”
“Undoubtedly. They have used similar tactics in the past, to exploit similar wounds.”
Kaltrina nods. None of this seems to be a surprise to her. “You will wait to act while we verify your claims.” She gestures at a subordinate, who slides into the back of the truck. Charlotte supposes there’s an Internet-connected laptop in there, and everything she said is likely to be thoroughly vetted.
There’s still things to do in the meantime. “May I ask why the standoff?” she asks as pleasantly as she can, given the question.
“Rook obtained permits, the usual legalities, for construction. However, they did not say they would be digging here. The ruins are of immense cultural importance to Albania. We are here to protect the ruins from their intrusion. At the same time, we cannot force the issue without risking damage to the ruins.”
Kaltrina hands over a pair of binoculars, and points at a spot in the air. Charlotte levitates her staff to have both hands free, and operates the apparatus, zooming in where indicated. High above, half hidden by clouds, she can see a flying human figure in costume.
“We are here for another reason.” Kaltrina stands next to Charlotte, staring up. “DLS. Duke Luftuar Skifter, sometimes wrongly Americanized as ‘Duke Skifter’.” The first ‘duke’ sounds more like ‘dookah’ to Charlotte’s ears. “You could call him the Fighting Falcon. He is a vigilante. He wishes to fight with Rook as well. We must stop him from damaging the site, if he attacks. He will not listen to us, but he does not engage as long as we are here. So you see, we are at something of a stand-off.”
Charlotte smiles as graciously as she’s ever managed. “I do believe I can be of assistance to y’all, my dear Kaltrina.”