He swiveled at the waist, reached for Indree.
“Please, don’t. The crawler is loaded with a spellfire detonation. If you call your friends, I’m afraid I’ll have to set it off. I would rather you didn’t force my hand. If nothing else, it would advertise my presence in a fashion I would sooner avoid.”
And now Tane knew the voice. Endo Stooke. His heart pounded against his chest, and he drew his hand back slowly, trying not to wake Indree. It was possible the spellfire detonation was a bluff, but he had no way to know, and it wasn’t as if Endo had proven unwilling to use extreme measures in the past.
“What do you want, Endo?” Tane’s eyes fixed on the crawler at the door, but he did his best to sound calm. Endo didn’t need to know how nervous he was.
“Just to talk. Please, come outside. I would hate to wake Inspector Lovial.”
“Fine. Let me get dressed, then. It’s cold out, and I don’t need all of Belgrier to see me standing on the balcony in my underclothes.” He slipped out of bed as quietly as he could, found his clothes where he’d left them on the floor, and dressed himself. Then, turning the handle slowly, he inched the balcony door open and crept outside.
The crawler was waiting for him, a foot-high ovoid of polished brass standing on segmented, insect-like legs. The metallic iris of its single silver-blue eye dilated wide as Tane stepped through the door, and it scuttled back slightly, as if to make room. There were no wards on the embassy, so it wouldn’t have been hard to get the automaton onto the grounds.
“Good,” Endo spoke into his head. “I’m glad you’re willing to be reasonable about this. I have no desire to resort to violence. Not at the moment, at least.”
Tane wrapped his arms around himself against the cold. The balcony was covered, which kept it clear of snow, but that didn’t make it any warmer. He could see his breath against the dark. “If you’re feeling so peaceful, why the trap at the crash site?” he asked, mostly rhetorically. Stalling with questions gave him time to think. The longer it took Endo to do whatever he meant to do, the better.
The answer surprised him. “That was not on my orders, I assure you. I don’t want Lady Abena’s investigators killed in a mishap at the site—it makes it harder to believe that Audland was behind the sabotage. Of course, as you have already surely deduced, I have been forced to seek allies among these Belgrian brutes. It seems one of them is overly eager to stop you.”
He might have been lying, but there was a certain sense to it. Tane couldn’t tell either way—Endo had tricked him before. “If you aren’t here to kill us, what do you want? Why give yourself away by talking to me?”
“Come now, Tane.” Endo said. The crawler tapped a narrow leg against the ground, as if impatient. “We both know that I’ve given nothing away. You have known from the beginning that I was behind this. If I confess to you right now, it makes no difference. You cannot tell the Belgrians that an Audish mage sabotaged their airship, not before you have me in custody to hand over. We wouldn’t want the Kaiser getting skittish about letting the Protectorate poke around, would we?”
There was no arguing with that—they’d already suspected Endo understood the reality of the situation. But if he thought Tane’s hands were tied, he might be willing to give away more information. “Why are you doing this, Endo? Why put the nation you want to rule at risk of war? It won’t only be Belgrier—you know Estia will jump at the chance, and both of them have ten times the soldiers we do. This is only going to hurt Audland.”
A note of amusement crept into Endo’s tone. “Is it? You’ve seen how they live here in Stelihn. Scrambling to catch up to our most basic conveniences. And this is their capital—it only gets worse elsewhere in the country. With magic on our side, these backwards nations are no threat. But when forces seeking to oppress the magical move against the Protectorate, I do believe it might turn a great many minds to my way of thinking.”
Tane shivered, not sure whether the chill he felt was from the winter air or Endo’s words. “That’s not going to happen.” He wished he believed it more; he tried to at least sound like he did. “We’re going to find you first.”
“Perhaps.” Endo didn’t sound very concerned. “You haven’t proven to be entirely incompetent. But I have… certain failsafes in place. I came here as a courtesy, Tane. I hoped that a polite conversation might convince you. I wasn’t lying when I said I would rather not hurt you. Don’t get too close. It will end badly for you and your friends.”
“And you care about our welfare, all of a sudden?”
“Perhaps I have become fond of you. Your persistence is endearing. But I will not hesitate to do what I must if you interfere.”
“Noted.” Tane sent back. He kept the other part to himself: I’m not going anywhere, you pompous maniac.
But apparently Endo understood him better than he’d thought. “Ah. I know that tone. Well, I did try. Goodbye, Tane.” A glyph on the bottom of the crawler’s body flared silver blue.
Tane flinched away, braced himself for an explosion of spellfire.
But the crawler just leapt into the air, and began to hover. One of his levitation spells, like his chair. It soared over the railing, and then shimmered out of sight into the dark—presumably the same illusory cloaking that Endo had used with the Mask. If he could make a nine foot tall golem disappear, a crawler would be easy. Tane peered after it, but he couldn’t make anything out against the night sky.
So apparently Endo could get to them and leave without a trace. That wasn’t very comforting. But at least I’m alive. That could have gone much worse.
When Tane stepped back through the balcony door, Indree was already stirring. She sat halfway up, blinked at him.
“What were you doing out there?” she asked in a groggy mumble. “It’s cold.”
“Talking to the Emperor himself.”
Indree was on her feet in an instant. She didn’t bother with modesty, just grabbed her baton from the nightstand and started for the door in her underwear. “Where is he? Are you alright?”
Tane held up his hands to stop her. “He’s gone. He wasn’t even really here. It was a crawler.”
Indree punched him lightly in the shoulder. “You should have woken me, you idiot!” And then she pulled him into her arms and squeezed him tight. “He could have hurt you!”
“He said he’d hurt all of us if I called for help.” Tane leaned into her embrace, and let out a breath he felt like he’d been holding since he’d awoken. “I’m fine, Ree. Really. And some good might come out of it. He told me more than he needed to. Maybe more than he meant to.”
She released him and drew back to look him in the eye. “Like what?”
“He’s trying to start a war,” Tane said. “And he wasn’t talking like he was done. I think he knows the airship won’t be enough by itself. He’s got to have something else coming, to build off it. We need to work fast.”
“Astra, it just gets better and better, doesn’t it?” Indree sighed and rubbed her forehead.
“It’s not all bad,” he said. “I did learn one other thing.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.”
Tane let himself smile slightly, despite everything. “We have him worried.”
Chapter Twelve
_____
AS TANE FOLLOWED Ambassador Althir toward the workhouse’s entrance, an anxious queasiness started to roil in his stomach. The building was massive, a huge rectangular monolith of stone with few windows and only one way in or out. The walls were lined with brass—he couldn’t see that, but he knew it was there beneath the surface—and etched with powerful wards to keep mages from escaping. Tane had no magic, and the place wasn’t built to hold him, but it still felt like walking into a prison.
Which it very much was, whatever the average Belgrian might say.
“You’re sure Tinga will be alright in there?” Tane asked. Tinga was no mage either, but she was a goblin, and he wasn’t optimistic about Belgrian tolerance. It had seemed like a good idea to keep
her in sight, especially if Endo’s crawlers were creeping about, but now he wasn’t so sure.
“I have no reason to believe otherwise,” said Althir. She’d come along as their escort to the workhouses—Tane got the sense that she didn’t quite trust their ability to avoid trouble in such a sensitive environment. “We are protected by diplomatic convention, and there is no danger of her being mistaken for a worker without a bracelet. The mages wear them to block their magic when outside the workhouse, and limit it except for approved uses inside. That said, I must emphasize the importance of a respectful demeanor. The situation is… unseemly, I know, but an incident today will only create problems for future negotiations.”
“Right,” Tinga muttered. “No problems here until we came along. This is all just great.”
“We all agree it’s awful, Tinga,” Tane said. “But getting arrested in there won’t fix it, so let’s just have a look around and try not to make anyone too angry. If you can’t handle it, you can wait in the carriage.”
Tinga shook her head emphatically. “No. I’ll be fine. I’ve seen all of that carriage I can take.”
“I must say, I’m surprised it’s only you two,” Althir said. It didn’t sound like a complaint—more like she was slightly relieved. “I thought your partner would come along, Mister Carver. Miss Kadka doesn’t seem the type to avoid looking a place like this in the face.”
“She’s not avoiding it,” Tane said. “She just had something else to do. She’s… visiting a friend.” He hadn’t told Althir about Henred Klenn’s revelation—he felt guilty enough asking Kadka to speak to the man at all. She’d resisted, said she should be with him and Tinga for protection in case Endo tried anything else, but it wasn’t hard to tell that she had other reasons for her reluctance to see Klenn again. And even knowing that, he’d still convinced her to do it. He wasn’t going to spread her secrets all over town as well.
“That may be for the best,” said Althir. “She is rather imposing. I suspect she would have put the overseers on edge, mage or no.” She came to a halt before the door, where two red-uniformed Belgrian Guardsmen blocked the way. They craned their necks up to look at her. “I am Ambassador Estene Althir, escorting the Protectorate’s investigative delegation. We should be expected.”
The Guardsmen had, in fact, been told they were coming, and they pushed open the doors without sparing Tinga a glance. So far so good. Even in Belgrier, it seemed goblins weren’t paid much mind. Althir ducked her head low and led Tane and Tinga inside.
The interior of the workhouse was just as drab and grey and vast as the outside, but it was notably louder. People of all kinds toiled over the worktables, and the clang of tools and chanted words in the lingua muddled together into a general din similar to Bastian’s warehouse back in Audland. This was more subdued than that, though; the noise came entirely from the work. Any attempts at actual conversation were discouraged by the overseers pacing up and down the aisles, keeping a watchful eye. No one looked up when the door opened; they kept their heads down and their eyes on their tasks.
At least half of the workers were non-human—more than Tane had seen anywhere else in Belgrier. There was a clear hierarchy among them: the mages assigned any actual spellcraft were exclusively human, while the non-humans took care of menial tasks. Ogren hauled heavy sheets of various metals about between tables, gnomes and goblins bent over workbenches hammering brass plates into shape, sprites used their tiny hands to etch tiny glyphs. As Althir had said, they all wore thick steel bracelets—more like shackles—with bands of glyph-etched copper down the middle. Very similar to the ones the Belgrian Guard carried, really, though only on one wrist.
Tinga cast her eyes over the scene with a look of utter dismay. “Well this is miserable,” she said quietly. “Astra, it’s… it’s just slavery, isn’t it?”
Tane nodded. “I don’t have another word for it.” He should have told her to watch what she said, but he didn’t have the stomach to disagree just then.
Althir did it for him. “I trust you will both speak more cautiously with our guide,” she murmured, and nodded her head politely at a slim human man with an oiled goatee who was approaching them across the floor.
The man smiled a broad, insincere smile and waved when he saw them looking, then crossed the remaining distance in a half-jog. “Our honored guests!” He spoke in Belgrian, translated by Tane’s earpiece. “I’m so glad you could come. My name is Verned Richt, the chief overseer of this facility.” He puffed out his chest slightly. “His Majesty’s most relied upon factory of artifice, I am proud to say.”
“A pleasure to see you again, Mister Richt,” Althir said, and it sounded sincere. Which it couldn’t possibly be, Tane was certain, based on the two seconds he’d known Richt for. She’s a real diplomat.
“And you, and you.” Richt said, though he was already turning to Tane. His eyes passed right over Tinga without any acknowledgement. “And this must be Mister Carver of the Magebreakers. I hope I can help with your investigation, although I assure you that my workers take the utmost pride in what they do. I’m certain their work on the Gerthine was precisely to specification.” He said it politely, but if it was true it meant the specifications were faulty—Audland’s fault, essentially. Tane wondered if that was an intentional slight, or if the man just didn’t realize the implication.
It wasn’t worth pursuing, in any case. “I’m sure you’re right, but it’s important I ask around,” said Tane. “Those bracelets, how do they work? Ambassador Althir mentioned that they limit magic even in here. How much? The mages would still need enough freedom to do their jobs, so it can’t be too restrictive. I’m wondering if it would even be possible for anyone to attempt sabotage.”
“Very unlikely,” Richt said. “Every worker is assigned a task, and their bracelets only allow the magic required for that task. You’ll notice that many aren’t using magic at all—their bracelets are, of course, set to disallow any spellcraft. And outside this building, everyone’s magic is disabled. They would have to remove their bracelet to act out, and that is impossible, without… well, it simply can’t be done. Every mage in my employ understands that safety comes first—theirs, and ours.”
That was the common Belgrian refrain, the way they justified what they were doing. For their safety and ours, as if everyone involved had agreed that it was an equitable arrangement.
“Of course they do,” Tane said, swallowing his distaste. I’m sure everyone here appreciates how ‘safe’ they are. Freedom can be so dangerous. He gestured to a row of tables where a line of gnomes and goblins and the occasional kobold were etching glyphs into copper. “But for instance, there. That’s a non-magical task, I assume—the glyphs can be imbued later by one of the mages with a bracelet set to allow it. But they don’t need magic to etch the wrong glyphs. A minor change here or there could cause a lot of problems.”
Richt nodded his head and clapped Tane on the back. “I can see why you are good at what you do, Mister Carver! An astute observation! To be sure, our wards and bracelets can’t stop non-magical mistakes. But I assure you, our workers would never do such a thing on purpose.”
“I’d like to talk to a few of them, if I may,” said Tane.
“Not a problem! Follow me.” Richt led them to the tables where the etchers were working. “Hulmo! These people would like to ask you some questions!”
A round-faced gnomish man of advancing years with only a half-circle of hair left around his temples looked up from his work. An anxious expression flitted over his face, and then he gave a clearly forced smile. “Whatever you say, boss. Glad to help.”
Tane knew even before he asked that he wasn’t going to get an honest answer. Not in front of the overseers. “Glad to meet you, Hulmo. I’m wondering if you’ve noticed any strange behavior of late, particularly when you were working on the Gerthine.”
Hulmo shook his head far too emphatically. “Nothing like that. It was a real honor to work on the airship. We were all happy
to be chosen.”
It was about what Tane had expected. “Thank you, Hulmo.” He didn’t bother asking more—he’d just been curious what pre-prepared answer Richt had instructed the mages to give.
Everyone else Tane spoke to said much the same thing. “It was an honor” or “just glad to be chosen” came up time and time again. Clearly they’d been given something of a script, and most of them weren’t trying very hard to improvise within those boundaries. He wasn’t going to get anything here, not while the workers feared what the consequences of talking might be.
Finally, he decided he’d played the game long enough. “I think I have what I need here,” he said. “I’d like to visit the residence as well, before we go.” If there was any chance of speaking freely with one of these mages, it was there.
“Absolutely,” said Richt. “I expected you’d want to. They should be ready for us. It’s just across the way.” He took them outside and down the street to the next building, a slab of windowless grey nearly identical to the workhouse. The guards pushed open the door when they saw Richt coming, and he led them straight through.
They entered into a modest foyer with a few rather limp potted plants set on either side by way of decoration. The ceilings had clearly been built with people of human size in mind; Althir had to stoop to fit. A plain corridor led deeper into the building, with others branching off on either side halfway down. At the far end was an open common room or meal hall, where Tane could see a number of people congregating at various tables.
There were no guards in sight on this side of the door, just a single elven man waiting for them. He was slender and graceful, with an ageless, unlined face and long blond hair tucked behind pointed ears. A mage’s shackle was clasped around his right wrist.
“Vaelon, thank you for meeting us.” Richt greeted the man, and then turned to Tane to make introductions. “This is Vaelon Thiamor, the elected spokesman for this residence. He’ll help us find anyone we need to find, and so on.”
The Spirit Siphon (Magebreakers Book 4) Page 10