Flames Over Frosthelm

by Dave Dobson

  Yes, except for the minor setback where we destroyed the Augur’s pool, this would have been a real success story. There were obviously still some mysteries left unsolved – what Novara was trying to do, where the missing jewel was, what the pendant signified, and how Marron might be connected to the whole affair. These still nagged at me and, I thought, at the other inspectors as well.

  The case was hardly my only concern. The Augur hadn’t regained consciousness as of the night before, and I was quite worried about her. I supposed the healers could still give her water, and they had some sustaining magic to use, but I wasn't really sure how long she could last without regular nourishment. Or, for that matter, whether she’d recover at all. I would visit her today, I resolved.

  I finished my porridge, wiped the bowl and my spoon with a damp rag, and put them in my small cubbyhole. Boog was already into his second bowl, and I saw that he had selected three of Mavis’ golden honey squares as an accompaniment. I sent my bag down to the apprentices' quarters, figuring those poor wretches would appreciate it more than I.

  One of those self-same wretches knocked at our door. “Inspectors?” he said, timidly. He looked to be in the newly-recruited group, a first-year, those who’d replaced our graduating class. I wondered if I’d looked as young and as wide-eyed five years ago. Probably even more so, I decided.

  “Yes?” growled Boog. He liked playing with them a bit.

  The boy flinched, and stammered, “Yes, sir. I mean, sir, your presence, sir, is requested by Inspector Denault in the meeting hall. Sir. Now. Sir.” The boy paled as he spoke, shrinking from Boog’s hulking presence.

  Boog gave him a nasty glance. “Oh, really?”

  The boy seemed to want to curl into a ball. “Yes, sir.”

  “And why should I believe you?”

  The boy looked confused. “Sir?”

  “There are spies and traitors about. Everywhere.” Boog cast quick, paranoid glances in all directions. Then he grabbed the boy’s jerkin and pulled him close. "Perhaps you are one?” The boy opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. No sound came out.

  “Boog, give it a rest,” I said, tired of the game. I’d been the target of such jokes far more often than Boog, I’m sure, and I had a good deal of sympathy for the gangly boy.

  Boog laughed and tousled the boy’s hair. “Sorry, lad. We’ll be along shortly.” He gave the boy one of his honey squares. “Here you go. Thanks for the summons.” The boy left rather quickly.

  “What do you think Denault will want to do next?” I asked, gathering my cloak from its hook.

  “No idea,” said Boog. We wound our way through the dormitories and then through the clerks’ offices to the meeting hall, outside Sophie's office. Denault, Clarice, and Gueran were all there. Sitting across the table from them was Sophie and a woman I’d not seen before. She wore the blue and gold doublet of the Justiciary.

  I glanced at the map and was surprised to see that no flag had been placed where we’d found Novara. The map was updated first thing in the morning and then as needed during the rest of the day, so it should have been marked. I was unsure of the appropriate flag color for finding a dead criminal sorceress with a magic hole burnt through her chest. Probably still miscellaneous orange. Even stranger, I saw that the case flags had been removed from the Sotted Swan and Countess Moriff’s house, the site of the original robbery.

  Boog and I found seats at the table. Boog sat next to Clarice before I could make my way there. The clod. I hoped his chair had a splinter.

  “Marten, Beauregard. Thank you for coming so promptly,” said Sophie. She didn’t look happy. “This is Justice Wiggins. She’s come here to follow up on a request we received late last night.”

  This was unusual. We had frequent contact with the Justiciary, but it was normally initiated by us, when our cases were complete and we or the city guard had arrested a criminal. I couldn’t think why a justice would be interested in our case, particularly one in which both the thief and his employer were dead, and the stolen goods recovered. There seemed to be nothing and no one upon which to pass judgment.

  Sophie continued. “We have been requested by the Justiciary to conclude our investigation into the jewel robbery upon which you all have been working, with great success, I might add.” She looked at us, a small smile showing her pride.

  The justice, a thin woman with a crooked nose, interrupted Sophie. “It is our understanding that you have solved the case and recovered the stolen property, and that both of the persons involved are deceased. There would seem to be nothing else for you to do.”

  Not by half, I thought. Denault agreed. “But the case has come to include more than just the robbery,” she said. “There is the matter of the sorcery performed by Novara—”

  “Who is dead,” interjected Wiggins.

  “And the matter of Novara’s accomplices, seen entering the house.”

  “They were not accomplices. They were sent by Count Marron to investigate reports of noise at his property.” That didn’t ring true. For one thing, why weren't they wearing his uniform? But I was beginning to see what was going on here.

  Denault was becoming frustrated. “We have not recovered all of the stolen jewels.”

  “Count Marron is deeply upset that such unsavory events transpired on his property, although of course he had no knowledge of Novara’s intentions. He has offered to compensate Countess Moriff generously for her loss and her trouble, and the Countess has accepted this offer." Justice Wiggins sounded very regretful indeed.

  Gueran spoke up. “In the course of their investigation, these two,” he gestured to Boog and me, “invoked powerful magic which damaged and possibly destroyed the Augur's pool.”

  He paused to favor us with a look of open disdain. Thanks, Gueran, you pompous ass. He went on. “This magic was directly tied to Novara and merits further investigation for the safety of the city.”

  Wiggins seemed ready for this, as well. “As I pointed out earlier, Novara is dead and poses no further danger. As for the damage to Guild property, the Justiciary has ruled that the Guild may keep the gold recovered from Stennis Shortsaber to help pay for repairs. In addition, Count Marron deeply regrets his unintentional involvement, and has most generously offered a sum of four hundred gold sovereigns to help compensate the guild for necessary repairs and loss of income.”

  I could see from the bright pink of Boog’s face that he was angry. “I suppose that’s contingent on us breaking off the investigation?"

  The justice didn’t reply. Sophie looked very uncomfortable. “That’s enough, Beauregard,” she said, softly. Boog folded his huge arms across his chest and looked down at the table. Clarice sat impassive and unreadable at his side, and Denault seemed suddenly deflated. Gueran’s eyes showed anger, but he said nothing.

  If that was our price, at least it was a good one. I didn’t know the details of the Guild’s finances, but I guessed that such a sum would keep us going for three months, at least, maybe more. More than enough time to get the pool back in operation.

  Sophie spoke again. “I’ve decided to close the case. Please file your final report with the clerks by the end of the day.” Her tone was dull and heavy. She turned to the Justice. “Thank you for taking the time to help us clarify the situation. I think we’re finished here.” Wiggins rose and left, a smirk on her face.

  We were all quiet for a while, lost in our own thoughts.

  Finally, Boog broke the silence. “That’s not right.” His voice was cold.

  Sophie sighed. “I know it. Believe me, I hate this more than you do. But what am I to do? Fire all of you, and run all the investigations myself? Stop feeding everyone? Sell the Guild Hall? Without the pool working, we can’t make it. And the Prelate can't spare another copper with the fighting at the border. We have no choice.”

  “We’re whores,” said Gueran, acidly. I was surprised at his vehemence. “There is no honor in this.” For once, I agreed with him.

  “Th
ere is no honor in Marron,” murmured Clarice. “None.” She abruptly stood and left the room.

  My mind wanted to tear off in a thousand directions, but I forced myself to think. “Chief. If I understand this…arrangement, we are not to investigate any further into Novara, Stennis, or Count Marron.” Sophie nodded glumly. “Does this prevent us from doing further work on the pendants and their magical properties, and the connections to the old religious groups?”

  Sophie thought about this. “I suppose I have no objection to that, as long as you keep well clear of Marron. But I need you all on other cases. We’ve got more cases than we have inspectors, and I can’t spare you for a wild chase that may never lead anywhere.”

  “But on my own time?” I pressed her.

  “Your own time is your own business,” she replied. I saw a glimmer of satisfaction play across her face. She stood. “Once you've completed your reports, please contact me for a new assignment. Inspector Denault, come with me, if you would. I want to discuss the wording of the final report.” Denault looked unhappy, but she followed Sophie into her office and closed the door.

  I looked at Boog. He held out his hand, and I grasped it. “I’m with you,” he said. “Let’s get to the bottom of this. Marron or no Marron.”

  Needless to say, I was quite surprised when Gueran placed his hand firmly atop both of ours. “I’m with you, too.”

  11

  The Pursuit of Undomesticated Geese

  The Augur’s assistant peered out through the half-open door after I knocked. I wasn’t sure if she would be glad that I was coming to visit or angry because I’d been involved with the Augur’s affliction. I suspected the latter, but her neutral expression held no clue.

  “Madame awakened, just an hour ago,” she said. “Thanks be to the Mother. She’s resting in the rear chamber. She may have fallen back to sleep, so tread softly.” She gestured toward the rear of the room.

  We had a small infirmary in the Guild Hall, and the Augur had understandably been granted its largest room. I padded quietly through the archway separating the two halves of the room and saw the Augur resting on a bed, her upper body propped up on a pile of cushions. Her skin looked gray, and her breath hissed in and out unevenly, so it took me a little while to realize she was conscious of me in the room. Her pink eyes showed only through slits under her eyelids, but I could still feel the power of her gaze.

  She made a soft grunt, then coughed, dry and raspy. I knelt by her bed and placed my hand on hers. It felt cold, her skin like dry parchment. “Augur, I’ve come to apologize for what happened. I should never have used the pendant without knowing its power and history. It's my fault you’re hurt.”

  Her lips moved, and I leaned closer to hear her whisper. “It’s your fault…” she wheezed, then closed her eyes. I felt terrible. Her injuries, the pool –– I’d been hoping she wouldn’t put the blame solely on me. But who else? Not the Augur herself, and certainly not Boog. I wondered if I should resign from the Guild entirely. Perhaps they'd all be better off if I did.

  She opened her eyes again. “It’s your fault,” she repeated, “that I’m alive.” Surprisingly enough, she grinned. She seemed to regain a bit of her strength, although I still strained to hear her whispering. “The pool saps strength from those who use it, as you know. When I lost control, and the pendant took over, it…drained me. I could feel my life departing my body, into the pool, and stranger still, into the amulet. It was all I could do to grab onto you, and feed it some of your strength, so that I might retain some small piece of myself.”

  My hand flew unbidden to the back of my neck. I recalled her cold, tight grasp at the pool, and my sudden weakness. She swallowed noisily and smiled. “I can see I should have fed it more of you, and less of myself.”

  “But, Augur,” I replied, slowly. “It was still my choice to place the medallion among the runes. My error, that caused all this."

  She laughed, a ghastly chuckle, then sank into a fit of coughing. “Silly lad. I knew better what we did than you. It was my curiosity, not yours, for which I now pay the price.” She closed her eyes again and was silent for a time. After a few minutes, I thought she must have succumbed again to sleep. Though I longed to ask her a hundred questions, I thought it best to let her rest, hopefully to recover. I let go of her hand and rose, turning quietly toward the archway.

  “Marten,” she called at my back. “The north corner. Look there.” She placed a hand over her eyes, and said no more, though I waited a long while, until her breathing became soft and regular.

  I nodded to the Augur’s assistant as I walked out, lost in thought. I wondered which north corner she meant. I thought instantly of the Augur’s chamber with the pool, but it was circular, and had no corners at all. Perhaps I was to look in the northern corner of headquarters, but that, too, seemed unlikely. The Hall of the Inquisitor’s Guild was a rectangular building running east-west, with the dormitories attached on the western end, so it didn’t really have a northern corner. And it had three stories, plus below-ground storage, so it wasn't even clear which of the northern sides she could have been speaking of. No, I couldn’t think that she’d refer to a northern corner in the building, although in her weakened state she might have misspoken.

  Could it be Frosthelm itself? The ancient castle sat atop a steep rocky hill, its outer walls tracing the hilltop’s contours, forming an impregnable barrier. Well, it might be pregnable, but it hadn’t been conquered in the last four hundred years, at least, although that was more due to the strength of its armies than of its walls. The wealthy and the noble lived inside the walls of the inner keep, while the tradespeople, merchants, and commoners lived in the city below, sprawled around the hill in all directions, the houses and businesses within the large outer city walls giving way to pastures and farms the farther out one traveled, past the outer walls.

  The outer city was too large and too disorganized to have anything like a northern corner, or any corner, for that matter. The inner keep wall did have something of a northern extreme, if I remembered the maps correctly. I headed to the meeting hall to check. I had already turned in my report to Denault, and I hadn’t been assigned new duties, so I could spend the rest of the afternoon on my search.

  Two hours later, I stood atop the wall of the inner keep, admiring the view of the city below. Would that my powers of intuition had been equally breathtaking. The wall here, definitely the northernmost point of the keep, was amazingly nondescript. It brought absolutely nothing to my mind. Nothing. There were no markings, no mysterious informants waiting with information, no messages secreted in potted plants.

  I could not imagine what the Augur had meant, if she meant me to look here. Directly below me, at the foot of the wall, were a well and a pigsty, serving the kitchen of a nearby household. I’d examined the well thoroughly, and the pigs and I had become fast friends after some initial distrust, but I was no nearer to solving the puzzle than when I'd started.

  Perhaps the Augur meant for me to notice something out below me, in the city. I looked out again over the jumble of houses, roads, and businesses below, with the Serpentine River cutting a gray-brown path through them. Fifty thousand people lived in and around the city, if the Prelate’s city minister could be believed. It was easy to believe this number from up here. I could see the northernmost of the city’s two main markets. The southern one, hidden from my current view by the keep itself, sprawled across several blocks in the southern part of the city. The northern one, which I now observed, catered to a wealthier segment of the population. It nestled in and around Fountain Square. The fountain there appeared as a bright blue disk from this height. I scanned the panorama for several minutes, but if there was a message there, I was too dense to see it.

  Dejected, I turned from the rampart’s edge. At the corner of my vision, I spotted just a hint of a gray cloak flapping in the wind. A figure disappeared down the nearby stairway, but I couldn’t get a good look. The sun flashed off red gems set in steel protrudin
g from a scabbard –– an ornate weapon. Probably a guard, I thought, although the walls of the inner keep were seldom patrolled in these days of relative peace in the city. But wouldn’t a guard have been in uniform, wearing a dark green cloak? And the sword was fancier than most guards would carry. Hmm.

  I walked down the stairs, bade farewell to the pigs, and headed back to the Guild Hall, which was across the keep grounds to the south. I tried to imagine what the Augur could have meant by a northern corner. I was obviously either missing something, or the Augur, in her illness, had been confused.

  I was pretty well confused myself by the time I returned to headquarters. I opted for the meal provided for the students in training – it was never anything special, except on holidays, but it would be hot and plentiful, and I’d had a discouraging day. I entered the front door of headquarters and headed for the dining hall.

  As I made my way through the building, I passed by the Augur’s chamber. Curious, I ducked inside to see what progress had been made in its restoration. With the roof closed, it was dim, lit only by a torch guttering in its sconce on the back wall. It felt sterile and dead compared to the bright light, excitement, and terror of two days before.

  I wandered around the room. They’d cleaned up the mess. The water was gone, the scattered book pages removed, the items I’d selected returned to storage, I supposed. There wasn’t any trace of Stennis on the runes. Poor guy, I thought, struck with a sudden pang of pity. He may have been a thief, but he had been vibrant, full of life, and I was fairly certain he had no idea what he was getting into. At least he died happy and rich, I mused. As he would have liked.

  Walking up the steps, I could see that the pool was empty, and it was shocking for me to see it so. It had not been drained in my lifetime, although the Guild histories told of such things in the past. The pool’s waters were prepared by the Augur and her assistants from an ancient recipe, requiring rare ingredients and arduous magical rituals. Once the liquid was created, there was no place it could be stored save the pool itself. It soaked up memories and images from whatever it touched. The wood of a barrel would fill the water with images of leaves and animals. Metal cauldrons would imbue the water with images of mines, mountains, and metalworkers. Normally, the Augur and her staff would create enough liquid each week to replace what was lost to evaporation, but the pool was never emptied and refilled except in the direst circumstances. Such as I had wrought, I thought sheepishly.