“Could have gone like this with Hesliar,” Kadka said, peering at the debris that littered the snow. She didn’t sound particularly shaken. “Is lucky we are alive.”
“Don’t remind me,” said Tane. “I’d rather not think about it.” He squatted down to dig up a stray piece of half-melted copper from the snow. It must have been part of the inner workings of the ship, but from where he couldn’t say—whatever glyphs it might have once borne hadn’t survived. The heating glyphs in the envelope had caused a number of fires, leaving scorched metal and blackened tree husks and icy pits of re-frozen snowmelt all around. The fires had long since been dealt with, of course, but the damage to the ship’s remains had already been done.
“Is not much left,” Kadka observed. “Hard to find clues like this.”
Tane glanced ahead at the center of the site where the main body of the hull sat. “The engine room should be better off. The inner core looks… more or less intact.” He hoped he was right—he didn’t want to go back to Indree empty-handed.
The body of the Gerthine was bent in the middle, the rear of it at an angle up the nearby hillside and the nose partially shattered against the ground. Picking his way through towards the engine room was no easy task—corridors had been twisted and compressed, and at points Tane had to duck through newly torn holes in the wall.
But the engine room itself was almost intact. The reinforced brass casing, designed to stop magical interference, had also served as a physical buffer. The door hung halfway off its heavy hinges, and the wall had partially buckled on the right-hand side, but there was enough left to work with, at least.
Tane turned to the Belgrian Guardsmen following behind them. “Has anyone taken a look inside yet? Is it safe?”
A solemn-faced blond man answered with a curt nod, his words translated into Tane’s head. “Our investigators have been over the entire ship already. As well as certain officials from the palace.”
“Good enough for me.” Tane started in.
Kadka grabbed him by the shoulder before he entered. “I will go first. Make sure.” She stepped across the threshold of the broken door and started poking around with her feet, testing the stability of the floor and walls. After a moment, she nodded to him. “Won’t fall down on our heads, I think.”
“Well then, let’s see if we can find what brought them down. That will be a lovely piece of information to have in my head on our flight home.” Tane ducked in after her and crossed to the right-hand side, where a large panel had fallen away from the wall. The opening left behind allowed him access to the glyphs and workings of one of the ancryst engines. He poked his head inside. The engine was a wreck, with bits of broken copper tubing and brass insulation hanging loose from moorings everywhere he looked.
But the chaos didn’t put him off. He had a hunch he knew where to look.
Digging through the mess, he found it.
Or rather, didn’t find it.
In the middle of a bent, glyph-etched mass of copper plates, there was a section missing. A broad oval, melted at the edges where some intense heat had clearly been applied.
“Look at this,” he said to Kadka.
She jammed her head into the small space beside his, and looked where he was pointing. “Looks like nothing. Is supposed to be something?”
“This is where the glyphs relating to the engine’s heat management should be,” Tane said. “The ancryst pistons build up a lot of heat as they move, even with proper oiling. There are spells to dissipate that heat harmlessly. These ones are missing.” He lowered his voice so that the Belgrian Guard waiting outside wouldn’t hear, although his earpiece wouldn’t have translated for them anyway while he was focused on Kadka. There’s one good thing about the language barrier. “I figured, Nieris had luck with the heating glyphs in the envelope before, and Endo had to be involved with that. He wouldn’t use the same plan again, but it was effective, so why not use the same principle somewhere else? And if he had people guarding the engine room, it had to be here.”
“Just removes glyphs?” Kadka frowned, puzzled. “No one notices this?”
Tane shook his head. “No, that would have been caught. They were definitely there before the ship took off. They must have been sabotaged during construction, like Indree said. Just enough that the ship could still perform during shorter tests, but on a longer one, the engines would overheat. Which would lead to the dissipation spells drawing too much power to compensate, which would cause failures in a dozen other places.”
Now Kadka nodded in understanding. “And now someone covers tracks. Removes glyphs after, removes evidence.”
“Right. Maybe it’s just bad luck, but this looks too perfect for crash damage. I’d guess spellfire. Fast and efficient, melt the whole section out at once.” Tane extracted himself from the engine access and crossed to the other side. The panel there was still intact, blocking access to the left-hand engine. He grabbed the handle and pulled, but no luck—it was jammed in place, warped in the crash. “Open this for me, will you?”
Kadka grabbed the panel and yanked hard, once. With a screech of metal on metal, it detached and clattered to the floor.
Tane poked his head in and found the same thing waiting for him. The same section of glyphs, melted away. “That’s no coincidence. Spellfire for sure. The Belgrian investigation could easily have missed it if they didn’t know what they were looking for, assumed it was natural damage. But this was intentional.”
“Is someone who can get to site, then,” Kadka said. Once more, she pushed her shaggy head in beside his. “If uses magic, maybe portals in?”
“I don’t think so,” said Tane. “The amount of brass around this room would make it impossible, and anywhere in the body of the ship would be asking to manifest with some buckled metal in your stomach. Outside, they’d be in view of the Guard. Portals aren’t very subtle. It had to be someone who could actually get by the checkpoint. Endo’s got to have an accomplice, someone high up in the Guard or the nobility.”
“Makes no sense,” Kadka objected. “Belgrier has no free mages to do this spellfire. And mages it has are not Guard. Or nobles.”
“It’s a theory with plenty of holes,” Tane agreed. “Even if we say Endo provided a spellfire artifact instead, why is someone with this level of access working with him? Belgrians aren’t known for loving mages.”
“Maybe artifact was put in before crash?” Kadka suggested. “Could be done in workhouse. Someone lower.”
“I have to think an unnecessary artifact would have been noticed, but maybe if they hid it behind…” Tane reached a hand in and bent some of the plating aside, trying to get a look at what lay beyond the hole where the heat management glyphs should have been.
A silver-blue magelight started blinking from within the recess as soon as his fingers brushed copper.
“That’s not good.” He’d been looking for a spellfire artifact—he might have found one.
Before he could move, Kadka’s arm wrapped around his waist, yanked him from his feet. She dove out the engine room’s open hatch, spun to the side, and pressed her back against the brass wall with her arms still clasped around Tane. “Move!” she barked to the Guard, who were startled enough to listen, scattering out of the way of the door.
A gout of silver spellfire roared out of the engine room, funnelled into the tall oval shape of the hatchway.
The Astral flame faded as abruptly as it had appeared, leaving no impression of heat behind.
“Astra, that was close.” Tane’s heart pounded in his chest, and he looked over his shoulder at Kadka. “If you weren’t there… I wasn’t going to get out in time.”
She released her grip around his waist, and barely acknowledged that she’d saved his life for the thousandth time. “Is this artifact that erases glyphs? Strong, for little bit of copper.”
Tane didn’t answer right away. Instead, he peeked back through the doorway. He had another hunch.
It was just as he suspected. No d
amage to any of the ship’s structure. The brass might have resisted the Astral flame, but every bit of visible copper was untouched as well.
Which meant the spellfire hadn’t been set to target inorganic material.
“No,” he said at last. “No, I think that was for us.”
And someone had to put it there. He glanced back at their escort of Guardsmen; they were recovering from the surprise now, and closing in with a clear question in their eyes.
Tane spoke low, just for Kadka, and hoped none of the Guard knew Audish. “An artifact like that would have been found during the initial investigation, which means it was planted after. Maybe by someone here. We can’t trust anyone. We tell them this was some sort of malfunction, damage from the crash. Try not to let on that we suspect anything.”
Kadka just gave a short nod, her eyes on the Guardsmen. Her hand strayed behind her back; he knew she was gripping the hilt of one of her knives. Just in case.
“Are you hurt?” one of the men asked as he drew near. He was eyeing them both with clear suspicion. “What was that?”
“We’re fine,” said Tane. “I think it was heat buildup from the dissipation spells that hadn’t been vented. I must have jostled something, put a broken connection back together.”
The man’s expression didn’t soften. It was going to take some talking to convince the Guard that this wasn’t some illegal magic they’d brought with them. And any one of them could answer to Endo.
And then a realization hit him like a fist in the gut: anyone in the Guard could be working for Endo. Anyone, including Thilde Berken.
And Indree was with her right now.
Chapter Eight
_____
INDREE PAUSED WITH her hand on the carriage door and looked back at Tinga.
They’d just drawn up to Doctor Stennig’s house, and Lieutenant Berken was already climbing out on the other side. But Indree had a feeling that if she wasn’t very clear with her instructions, their interrogation might be crashed by a certain goblin girl.
“Stay here,” she said, putting on her sternest constable’s voice. “I don’t want you so much as cracking the door.” She liked Tinga, even respected her rebellious streak, but the girl had gone too far stowing away on the Illuvar. She was going to have to learn some self-control. And not just because her being here might complicate the job they’d come to do—her safety was a concern as well.
Belgrier wasn’t a good place for a goblin who didn’t respond well to authority figures.
“I know, I know. I’ll behave.” Tinga didn’t look happy, but at least she held her instinct for defiance in check. Tane had been surprisingly firm with her, which had helped. Indree appreciated that—she didn’t much enjoy the role of scolding constable ruining everyone’s fun. That wasn’t who she wanted to be, but she sometimes felt like she was being herded into it.
It wasn’t always easy, reconciling the company she kept these days with the responsibilities of her position. In the past year her life had gone in a direction she’d never expected. Working as Lady Abena’s liason to the constabulary on the one hand, while on the other, getting increasingly involved in Tane’s circle of well-meaning—but hardly rule-abiding—rogues and criminals. There was a time when she would have thrown someone like Bastian Dewglen in a cell without hesitation; since Tane had resurfaced, she’d revised a great many of her notions about how to best serve the people of the Protectorate. She was used to some tug-of-war between the different sides of her life—it came with being a half-elf, always trying to balance the privilege granted by her elven father’s family with her human mother’s work ethic and practicality. But fighting beside a black-market artifact dealer to protect a clutch of baby dragons that she had to hide from the Lady Protector was a whole new level of dissonance.
She wouldn’t trade any of it away, though. Sometimes the letter of the law and the right thing to do weren’t the same thing. She was becoming comfortable with that, as strange as it was to admit.
Still, the degenerates she’d become so fond of needed to be reminded now and again that there were rules, and that was usually up to her. She was willing to do it when it needed doing, but it was nice to have Tane backing her up. And as much as this year had changed her, the same was true for him. He’d matured since their time at the University, and more so since they’d been together these past months. His fumbling attempts to discipline Tinga were quite endearing, actually.
“You, behave? I suppose there’s a first time for everything.” Indree offered a slight smile to soften the blow. No need to be too harsh, as long as Tinga was cooperating. “We shouldn’t be too long. I don’t think our man will want to get on Lieutenant Berken’s bad side.”
“Well I hope he gives you something,” Tinga said with a slight scowl. “Digging through those records better have been worth it. I do enough of that in the office back home.” They’d had to track down Stennig’s home address in the hospital files before coming, and even with the staff helping it had taken longer than it needed to. In Audland, any institution that dealt with that many people and employees would have had magical assistance in its filing system—instead, it had been all paper and endless drawers.
“You got yourself involved in this, Tinga. If you’re going to be here, you’re going to have to accept the parts you don’t like.” Indree actually agreed with her—she didn’t much like that kind of busywork either, although it was sometimes necessary in investigations. But it was probably good for Tinga to realize that this wasn’t all fun and games. “Anyway, I’m sure Doctor Stennig will have something to tell us, even if he isn’t the man Tane and Kadka saw. He was Ungren’s primary physician, after all. Stay put, and I’ll go find out.” She pushed open the door and hopped out of the carriage, into the light snow falling outside.
Stennig’s house was wood and stone with a steepled roof, like many in Belgrier, and large enough to signify that its owner was anything but poor. Even so, it didn’t stand out greatly from its neighbors. Indree likened the district to Stookehaven in Thaless—everyone was well-off, but not rich enough to afford the opulent manors of the truly wealthy parts of town. Merchants, successful tradespersons, doctors, and so on.
Berken was already waiting for her by the door. “The girl is welcome to observe,” she said as Indree approached. “She will not learn much hiding in there.” She believed that Tinga was there as the Magebreakers' apprentice, to watch and learn—largely because that was what they’d told her. Better that than admit their delegation had a stowaway.
“Not this time,” said Indree. “We don’t know Stennig’s level of involvement. If he turns violent, I’d rather keep her out of it. Assuming he’s here at all.” If he was the person Tane and Kadka had chased in the hospital, he might well have gone to ground already.
“Understood,” Berken said, as if receiving an order. The Belgrian Guard operated as far more of a military organization than the constabulary back home. “You may take the lead in questioning him—this is Audland’s investigation. But know that if I see any sign of criminal activity, my duties require me to step in.”
Indree raised an eyebrow. “Will I be able to talk to him after you take him into custody, if it comes to that?”
Berken frowned briefly, and then, “I can’t say for certain. It is not my decision to make. But as long as the Kaiser wishes to support your investigation, I don’t forsee a problem.”
“That will have to do,” said Indree. She didn’t love the idea that she might lose her suspect, but she’d known that there would be limits on her reach in Belgrier. And it was best to be agreeable with Berken for now. The woman had clearly been assigned to keep an eye on her in case she gave in to the foul temptations of her magecraft—building some trust couldn’t hurt. “Shall we, then?” She rapped her knuckles on the door.
Footsteps from within, and then the door opened a crack. A middle-aged man with dark hair and green eyes peeked out. “Hello?” His Belgrian translated into Indree’s earpiece with a f
lat, almost bored tone, although he looked her up and down with apparent interest. Neither elves nor Anjicans were a common sight among the well-to-do districts here, and her pointed ears and brown skin gave away her heritage on both fronts.
Dark hair. That matches Tane and Kadka’s description. “Doctor Ludo Stennig?” Indree asked.
“Yes, that’s me,” he said. That was almost surprising. If this is the man we’re looking for, why stay where he knows we can find him? Stennig’s eyes went to Berken, and then, “The Guard? What is this about?”
“I’m Constable-Inspector Indree Lovial, of the Thaless constabulary. This is Lieutenant Thilde Berken—of the Belgrian Guard, as you’ve already noticed. We’re working together on an investigation and we have some questions we’d like to ask you. Can we come in?”
Stennig’s eyes widened and he hesitated briefly—a natural reaction, but there was something about it that didn’t sit right with Indree. He was going through the motions well enough, but it felt off. He knows why we’re here. She couldn’t be absolutely certain, but it was enough to keep her guard up. Her instinct was to prepare the words of a spell in her head, but she couldn’t use her magic in front of Berken.
She’d have to be ready to fight, instead. Hopefully it wouldn’t be necessary, but she had her baton stowed under her topcoat—it hadn’t been taken when they entered the country.
After a moment, Stennig gave her a short nod. “Of course. Please.” He opened the door fully and held it for them to enter.
His home was modestly decorated with nothing out of its place, although Indree noted it was due for a good dusting—a thin coating had come to rest on the floor and a number of surfaces, and she left faint footprints where she stepped. He had a small few magical conveniences—mostly mage-lamps here and there, to supplement the less reliable gas and firelight. Things that even the poorer classes in Audland took for granted, but by the prominent way they were displayed, she guessed they were signs of status here in Belgrier. Stennig led them into the living room and sat down in an armchair, leaving her and Berken to seat themselves on the couch across from him.
The Spirit Siphon (Magebreakers Book 4) Page 6