by A. C. Cobble
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” replied Duke. “See, each one of these is a manifest. The heading lists the captain and the ship then on the lines after that, the first mate, the number of crew members, and any passengers. We don’t have to read the entire thing, just the names and descriptions of the passengers.”
“There are hundreds of them,” mentioned Sam.
“There are,” agreed Duke, “but I have a thought. We know Hathia Dalyrimple was involved in sorcery, and we suspect Hathia Dalyrimple knew her killer. Who else was involved in the conspiracy that we know of?”
“Her husband, and…” Sam’s eyes brightened and she slid her feet off the desk. “Captain Haines.”
“Right,” said Duke, a grin on his face. “Maybe the countess rode with Haines. Maybe she didn’t, but I’m going to start there first. We know he was rotten, so it stands to reason he’s our most likely culprit.”
“Assuming he didn’t bother to lie on his manifest,” remarked Sam.
Duke shrugged. “If he did, he would have had to slip it by the Company’s loadmasters on both ends of the voyage. You take half the pile. I’ll take the other, and let’s pull out all of Captain Haines’ manifests. It is possible he could have fabricated documents, but you don’t have anything else to do until dark, do you?”
Sighing dramatically, Sam scooped up a pile of papers and started thumbing through them, looking at the top lines where the ship name and captain were prominently displayed. Every week, several of the Company’s ships departed to and returned from the colonies. Some industrious clerk had copied every one of those manifests and sent them to Duke.
“I cannot believe someone went to all of the effort to—”
“Here’s one,” declared the nobleman, pulling it out and putting it on the desk. “It’s… Oh, this is the one we left for Archtan Atoll on. See? Two passengers, a male and female.”
“That’s it, no names?” asked Sam.
“No, that’s not required for the loadmaster,” explained Duke. “Names are usually noted for completeness in the Company’s records, but in the case of important persons like myself, a simple description is all. The more important, the less description. If a craftsman or someone who paid their fare was a passenger, their name would surely be noted. In Countess Dalyrimple’s case, it may or may not be, depending on her relationship with Haines.”
“I see I received just as little detail as you did,” remarked Sam, glancing at the paper in front of him.
Duke frowned then went back to leafing through his stack. They quickly found Captain Haines had been a busy man, and they had nearly a dozen manifests pulled out with his name on them before Sam found another and paused.
“One young woman, Southundon to Archtan Atoll,” she said. “No other description. Who might that be?”
“One woman…” muttered Duke. “None of the female company directors ever travel to the colonies. Well, to be fair, few of the men do either. It is unlikely a lady would travel alone like that. Let me see it… This is just two days before Countess Dalyrimple was murdered.”
“Two days,” responded Sam, frowning. “Well, we know it wasn’t her on that return trip.”
They fell silent, scrambling through the sheafs of paper, trying to find…
Duke stopped, pulling out another document. “Four days before the murder, two female passengers from Archtan Atoll arrived in Southundon, one middle-aged, one young. So he arrives with two women, and two days later returns to the colonies with one.”
“Two important, nameless women, and just one returned,” replied Sam. “The middle-aged one who remained in Enhover was very likely Countess Dalyrimple, but who would the young… Oh!”
“Surely not,” muttered Duke, putting the two manifests side by side.
“A single young woman left for Archtan Atoll days before the murder, and I’d bet you all my shillings we won’t find evidence she returned to Enhover — until we did.”
Duke ran his hand over his hair, checking the knot in the back, staring at the papers.
“Duke, what other women were in that colony who wouldn’t be named on the manifest? There are no other noblewomen, none senior in the Company…”
“It could be— it could be some lover of one of the factors or military officers. It could be…” He trailed off.
Given time, they could invent all sorts of young women who might have traveled in such circumstances, but there was one who made sense above all others. One that was already neck deep in the conspiracy, and had been lying to them both.
“I saw her today in the palace,” admitted Sam.
Duke looked up, meeting her eyes. “Did she seem suspicious?”
“No, not at all, but… she knows I am staying here.”
Duke groaned.
“We need to find Thotham,” said Sam.
The old man sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his face with his hands.
“We don’t know for certain she is involved,” said Sam, shooting a look at Duke.
“Why were you even speaking with her today?” questioned her mentor.
“I, ah, I had something to discuss with her. It…”
“What was it?” demanded Thotham.
“It—it is possible that both Duke and I, we, ah…”
The old man dropped his hands and looked in disbelief between the two of them. “Possible? Tell me you didn’t.”
Duke ran his hands over his hair, checking the knot in the back then looking out the window.
“You did,” groaned her mentor.
“It was a mistake on both our parts,” admitted Sam.
“Mostly your part,” grumbled Duke.
“You did it first,” argued Sam.
“And that makes it better that you did it second after knowing I did?”
“If she’s what you suspect, then you know what this means, right?” asked Thotham, his quiet voice silencing them.
“No…” responded Duke.
“It means she could have harvested material from us,” explained Sam. “Hair, fluids, any of it could be used in certain rituals to bind spirits to us, or worse.”
“Worse?” squeaked Duke. “What do you mean worse?”
“This is not good,” muttered the old priest. He looked between Sam and Duke. “We need to leave.”
“Leave?” exclaimed Duke. “But our plan!”
“Our plan was to surprise who, or whatever, comes to this estate,” barked Thotham. “If she knows you two are working together, it is no large leap to infer this is a trap. If she knows it’s a trap, there is no surprise, and we lose the one advantage we had. Maybe this girl is involved. Maybe she is not, but the risk is now too high. What if she’s involved and working with others? We cannot face unknown sorcerers who are prepared for us!”
“I may also have mentioned that we had something planned for tonight that was related to catching her parents’ killers,” mumbled Sam. She glanced at Duke. “I now realize that was a mistake to share.”
Thotham struggled to his feet. “Duke Wellesley, you need to evacuate your staff that hasn’t already left. Anyone here after dark could be in grave danger. Send them to the palace or whatever other homes you have in the area. That should be sufficient protection as long as they are around plenty of other people. No one will move against them publicly unless they think they are catching us as well. Then, we must go and confront Isisandra Dalyrimple right now.”
“What?” cried both Sam and Duke at the same time.
“You cannot run, and you cannot hide if she has some material from you,” declared Thotham. “Waiting is too dangerous if they have any inkling of what we’re planning. Surprise, not letting them plan, it’s all we have left.”
The Initiate VI
“I don’t appreciate you demanding my presence like this,” rasped the man behind the red, silk mask. “You work for me, remember? Not the other way around. Appointments like this should only be done at night. I am a busy man outside of these walls and I risk much to
meet you in the middle of the day.”
Isisandra swallowed and said, “I thought this was important.”
“You should hear what she has to say,” added the elder. “I wouldn’t have allowed the contact if I didn’t think it was necessary.”
Redmask glanced at the elder then back to her.
“Duke Wellesley and the priestess I told you about, Sam, they are working together still. They are investigating my parents’ murder,” said Isisandra. “They were supposed to have wrapped up the investigation and put it into the hands of the inspectors, but…”
“But what?” demanded Redmask, exasperation thick in his voice.
“They have something planned for tonight at Duke Wellesley’s estate, some way that Sam thought they would uncover the killer. She, Oliver, and a mentor of hers are involved. If… if that man Nathaniel Child was the perpetrator, I’m not sure what they hope to accomplish.”
Redmask’s fingers drummed on the table.
Isisandra waited, clenching her toes into fists, trying to stop herself from shifting nervously. They were in the same room she’d met Redmask before, inside the Feet of Seheht’s chapter house. Only this time, she’d requested to meet Redmask and not the other way around.
“Duke Wellesley did somehow discover the involvement of Nathaniel Child,” remarked Redmask after a long pause. “Days ago, he dragged his brother to the man’s house, and they battered down the door. They found nothing, of course, so perhaps they mean to… You said the three of them are at Duke Wellesley’s estate?”
“They are,” confirmed Isisandra. “Master, I—”
“Did the girl Sam or Oliver ever mention her mentor’s name? Has she ever discussed a person called Thotham?”
Isisandra closed her mouth and shook her head. “She did not give a name.”
“Thotham,” said the elder. “That name sounds familiar.”
“He’s one of the few surviving Knives of the Council of Seven,” answered Redmask, only a fraction of his attention on the conversation. For her benefit, she suspected, he added, “He’s an assassin-priest tasked with hunting down sorcerers and killing them.”
“You think he is tutoring the girl to follow in his footsteps?” questioned the elder.
“Of course he is,” growled Redmask.
“If we take her, then perhaps we can draw him into the open,” suggested the elder.
Redmask waved his hand dismissively. “I’ve known where the man is for years. He meets regularly with Bishop Yates on the Church’s grounds. He has a small apartment in the city, and an associate recently discovered his nest in Middlebury.”
“Then why haven’t you…”
“If we were to kill him, what do you think the Church would do?” inquired Redmask. “They would send more like him — lots more. For two decades now, the Church has believed sorcery died in Enhover, that no true practitioners remained. Why do you think we operate in such secrecy? We’ve been safe here because they do not think to look for us. Until it is time to challenge the Church directly, there is no sense risking their wrath. Besides, the man serves my purposes as well as the Church’s. He will find anyone foolish enough to make themselves known, and he will take care of them, saving the trinity the trouble of doing it ourselves. We have more important matters to spend our time on.”
Isisandra felt her heart racing. The man was casually talking about gaining strength to challenge the Church itself. It was why she’d started onto the path, why she’d apprenticed herself to the elder. She wanted what this man had. The trinity… she’d never heard of it. She started to ask about it but paused. Patience. Sometimes, the dark path required speed. Sometimes, it required patience.
“We?” asked the elder.
Redmask turned to look at the man.
“More important matters?” questioned the elder. “What is more important, or concerning, than the Church?”
“The Church is filled with fools, but there are a lot of them,” answered Redmask. “Because it is no great difficulty to avoid them, that is the easiest course. The real danger for those like us is the others walking the dark path. Knowledge is power, as you know, and it becomes more powerful as fewer people hold it.”
Redmask turned and met her eyes.
She gasped. Realization flooded through her, and suddenly, she understood why her parents had been killed. She’d accompanied her mother to Southundon, knowing her mother had discovered something big, but the countess would not share the details. Her fear and excitement had been evident, though, and the day after they had arrived and she’d made contact with an old acquaintance, Isisandra had been sent home. She’d assumed that acquaintance was Baron Child...
“Are you saying Baron Child was on the dark path? He killed my mother to steal the artifact she was carrying with her? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Cold blue eyes stared at her behind the red, silk mask. “Nathaniel Child struck a blow, but did he act alone, or did someone direct him? The artifact your mother carried was not recovered on his body or at his home.”
“Tell me who else,” demanded Isisandra.
Redmask blinked at her. “I know much, but I do not know all. There are others on the dark path beside us who are hidden from me. They are the true threat.”
“I can find out Sam and Oliver’s plans,” offered Isisandra, anger and shock blowing through her. Her parents’ deaths were not yet avenged. “They trust me, and I’m certain I can get them to open up. What they know of these… these others on the path, we will know as well.”
“No,” said Redmask, his silk cowl whispering as he shook his head.
“She has leverage over them,” advised the elder. “She’s bedded them both.”
“The girl, too?” asked the masked man. “Interesting. Do they both know?”
Isisandra swallowed. “I believe they do. Sam was rather upset about it this morning.”
“You saw her this morning?” questioned Redmask.
“She was in the palace,” answered Isisandra. “That is when I found out she was working with the duke, staying with him at his estate.”
“Why is she staying with Oliver?” wondered Redmask. “What was she doing in the palace?”
“Aside from visiting me, I believe she retrieved some documents from Prince Philip’s secretary. I overheard Oliver and Prince Philip discussing it last night. Some packet the Company had sent that Philip forgot to deliver.”
“I’m not aware of any… Frozen hell,” said Redmask, his gloved hand clenching into a fist and pounding the table.
“What?” asked the elder. “What were the documents?”
“Shipping manifests,” muttered Redmask. “The boy requested them weeks ago when he was first investigating Hathia’s death. He was trying to figure out how she arrived in Enhover and who would know she was here. Those documents have probably been sitting in Philip’s office ever since then.”
“The Company’s shipping manifests, how do you know?”
Redmask did not respond. Instead, his eyes turned to Isisandra.
“My mother traveled to Enhover on a Company ship before she died,” she whispered.
“As did you,” accused Redmask, “and then you returned on one. You think I am not aware of you and your mother’s movements? You were on Captain Haines’ airship, the man who killed your father.”
She swallowed.
“Haines, that is the first place Oliver will look,” continued Redmask. “He’s familiar enough with the documents he knows that passenger names or descriptions are listed there. It will be no great leap to connect Haines to your mother’s transportation, and if he’s smart, he’ll see you returned the same way. Despite his birthright, he’s brilliant when he applies himself. If he finds the thread, he’ll pull it.”
“I-I don’t understand,” stammered Isisandra.
“Girl, it’s possible he’ll learn you traveled here with your mother, on the airship of your father’s killer, and that Captain Haines is the one who returned you home. At
the very least, he’ll know you’ve been lying to him. What else do you think he might infer?”
“Oh.”
“We have to stop them,” declared the elder. “They’re at his estate in the city tonight. If we strike quickly—”
“It’s a trap,” said Redmask, sitting back, his fingers drumming restlessly on the table.
“How could you know that?” questioned the elder.
“It’s so obvious a child could see it,” chastised Redmask, “though it almost worked… That’s why the girl was in the palace. Oliver has a legion of servants who could have performed that errand. She was sent for a reason. She was making herself known, dropping hints about where she was, and who she was with. We’ve covered our tracks, and they have no leads to follow that lead to us. They’ve found another way. A clever way, I admit. They mean to use the old priest as bait to draw out their opponents. Thotham has a plan. He almost enacted it in Middlebury but was foiled by the timely arrival of one of our associates. Oliver and the girl came shortly after, killing a grimalkin and rescuing the old man from killing himself.”
Isisandra licked her lips, fascinated and frightened by the scope of Redmask’s knowledge. A tremor of doubt tickled the back of her mind, but she forced it away. After, when this was done, then she would consider it. Consider what tracks the sorcerer had covered. Consider who would view her parents as a competitor on the dark path, who would know their movements… Now, she had more immediate concerns.
“I’ve allowed Thotham to live for long enough,” declared Redmask suddenly. “He and his apprentice are getting too close, and if we hadn’t had this discussion, it’s very possible… Well, we did have this discussion. It is time we ended their line of inquiry. The Church will send more knives, but that is unavoidable. We cannot confront Thotham directly, though, not when he is ready for us. Instead, we must draw them to you. Reverse the trap.”
“Me?” asked Isisandra, staring at Redmask in confusion.
“Go to Derbycross. Leave this afternoon,” he instructed her. He turned to the elder. “You go as well. When you get there, prepare to defend yourselves. I have no doubt that Thotham, his apprentice, and maybe even Duke Wellesley himself will be there soon enough. Tell no one you are going. Face them alone and kill them.”