by B B Reed
The middle-aged woman’s brown eyes wandered from Edward’s paper to the emblem pinned to his coat, recognizing the seal, “Ah, yes! His retainer, pardon me for forgetting your face.”
“No offense taken, madam. Of course, he only seeks the best from the library when his own grand collection fails his studies.” Edward smiled, bowing to the receptionist.
Her eyes jump over to Halena, leaning forward to look for an emblem on her body, “Is she with you?”
Halena’s heart skipped, but Edward stepped in front of her to shield her from view, “Why, yes. Lord Moreaux’s new archivist knows how to use the library better than myself. I am merely escorting her per my lord’s wishes.”
The woman sat back, still eying Edward’s guest with quiet skepticism, “Of course. He is rather peculiar in his tastes.”
Edward faced Halena, gesturing to the stairway that runs up behind the reception desk, “On you go, I’ll be waiting outside once you’ve finished.”
She hesitated, unsure how to respond and nods at Edward, hurrying past him to climb the stairs into the archives. Turning around, she hazarded a glance back down to see her escort make his way out of the door, making her stomach churn from nerves. Halena reached the landing and marveled at the immense collection of books lining the walls around her. The room held a distinct musty smell of parchment and dust, an old collection held in its halls. She started walking down the rows of books, looking at the spines as she passed through.
Knowledge, maddening knowledge. All for the taking. Can you handle it? What if you don’t like what you discover? The raw, untapped truths of the world…
The words beating in her head numbed her, wandering listlessly from shelf to shelf. Her voice was hushed, answering her companion in a hypnotic tone, “They won’t notice if I do a little reading beforehand.”
It’s all so jealously guarded. Yes, they won’t notice your plunder. The secrets of mankind, you are entitled to them.
Halena nodded, passing from the end of the aisle into the next. She stopped to scan her eyes along the spines. Many books were worn and somewhat faded, a few titles catching her eye in the dizzying collection. ‘Ruminations on Species,’ ‘Observing the Black Hounds of Northwind Fells,’ and ‘Predators of the Moorlands.’
Halena passed these up, skimming for more titles until she left the section of bookshelves. A clay-red book spine stood out in the shelf just above her head and she reached on her toes to tease the spine out enough to pinch the volume with her fingers. It slides out and she rolls back on her heels to examine the cover, a tree centering the leather binding. It was divided down the middle by a line, one half bare of leaves while the other side was lush. She cracked the tome open, its title page reading ‘Intricacies of the Veil,’ and pored over its contents.
Her brow knit together as her eyes skimmed paragraphs of theory and artist renditions of what lie in the realm beyond the domain of mortals. She shook her head and flipped further into the tome, hoping to find familiar ground, but every page lacked the geometries of rituals or incantations she was expecting to find. The gross chortles in her ears only made her look harder in the tome, the lack of substance confounding her thoughts.
A soft voice interrupted her, “Would you like some help, miss?”
Halena spun around, meeting eye to eye with a pale woman. A dark green coat fit around her shoulders, the cuffs fastened together with couplings, and a skirt that flared down from her hips until it nearly touched the floor. Her blouse was decorated with brass clasps and an emblem of an eye with wings framing it sewn to the breast of her coat. The woman fixed a wisp of ghostly blonde hair behind her ear, the rest held together behind her head in a loose bun and offered a welcoming smile. Halena blinked, her words stammering, “I… No, I was just reading and… This book is wrong.”
The woman stepped closer, her heels clicking on the lacquered floorboards, craning her head to the side to read the cover. Her painted lips pursed as she took the book from Halena, “Ah, the Veil. Finding anything beyond theory on that subject is a difficult task even for our brightest scholars. Why were you reading it?”
Halena went rigid as the woman’s eyes searched her, studying her face, “I was just browsing… I need to speak with someone who can get word to the college’s masters. It seems ill fate has befallen one of the scholars from this institution.”
The thin eyebrows of the pale woman shot up, her hand resting over her chest, “Oh, dear! Please, you can speak plainly with me. My name is Elspeth Miriam, I am one of the department heads within the Manin order of scholars.” She gave a quick curtsey.
“I am Halena Maris. I apologize for intruding, but the incident was rather sudden.” She inclined her hooded head to the headmistress.
Elspeth smiled, folding her hands in front of her waist, “I assure you, anything concerning our students and faculty is worth the interruption. Which house sent you with this information?”
“House?” Her breath hitched, quickly answering, “I-It was… Marrow. Lord Calyrien—from the Mistral province. I was escorted here by Ed—Edward Astier, his retainer.”
Elspeth gave a curious tilt of her chin at Halena’s butchered pronunciation and nodded in understanding, “I see. Lord Moreaux came across one of our own?”
Halena shook her head, “No, I did. In Brighthall, I investigated a strange case of murders and attacks in the surrounding woods and… found someone from the college. His name was Simon, and he claimed to have worked for a woman named Lady Doctus.” She opened her satchel and presented Elspeth with the leather winged patch.
She took the patch in her slender fingers, frowning at the news, “I believe I know who you speak of, yes. This is… unfortunate. Do you know what happened to him?”
Her lips formed a thin line, “He is gone. Some sort of madness took him. When I found him, he had butchered a farmer and his wife and he was preparing for some dark rite in their cellar.”
Elspeth gasped, “Revered scribes forefend!”
She shook her head, looking at the patch in her fingers, “Before he was expelled from the college, Simon had become rather… extreme. I wish it was the first time I had heard of him researching the occult while under the college’s roof. The master scholars frown upon studying magick within the academy’s walls and would not tolerate his uncouth research.”
“I was hoping to learn more about what he was attempting to accomplish in the cellar, perhaps determine a motivation behind his crimes. Also, what Lady Doctus would have had him use it for.” Halena said, her hands relaxing from around the shoulder strap of her bag. Movement behind Elspeth drew her attention, a woman in a striking blue dress and deep azure hair that reached down her back, stopping at a table across the room to set down a bundle of books.
“Lady Doctus? I’m afraid the church has dealt with her some time ago.” Elspeth grimaced.
Halena tilted her head, returning her focus to the professor, “Was she exiled like Simon? He claimed to be her pupil.”
“She was branded a heretic and… purged by fire.”
Her mouth hung open, eyes widening, and every muscle in her back tightened up to her shoulders. Pushing through her shock, she dared ask, “Why?”
“Let’s just say the Ministry does not keep an open mind about studying magickal arts, especially without proper oversight by the college.” Elspeth continued, a distant look settling in her eyes as she looked over to one of the book cases, “Tis a shame that knowledge is not so openly celebrated by the Arram Ministry. They forget that it was the divine light of knowledge bestowed by our creators that allows us to steward their world. I worked with Lady Doctus briefly before her trial began and she was indeed brilliant.”
Halena shuffled in place, “I’m sorry. I-I’m wasn’t aware the ministry was so… narrow-minded. What was she known for?”
Elspeth’s gaze leveled on her, critical of her rough traveling effects, “At times. The ministry is easily scared by rumors of magickal events. Lady Doctus fought hard to dispel
the stigma towards tales of mysticism and magick established by the Seraphic church. If you’d like, we could offer you some space while you piece together this mystery.”
The woman’s eyes settled on Halena’s face, making her freeze. She muscled through her discomfort, “This would require Lord Calyrien’s, uhm, approval. He has me under contract, after all.”
“May I ask why he hired you, Halena?” Elspeth added, taking a step closer, “For someone hired as a freelancer, you appear to have a great amount of experience. Most tend to shy away from studying the mysteries of the Veil. I’d very much like to hear your thoughts on the subject and perhaps more…”
Behind Elspeth, the tan skinned woman in a blue dress approached with books cradled against her chest, “Excuse me, professor. Miss Colms requires your attention to sort out some papers that were sent to your office.”
Elspeth’s cheerful demeanor returned with the interruption, nodding to the younger scholar, “Best to not keep her waiting, then.” She looked back over, smiling again, “If you are ever here on your own time, I would like to speak more.”
A twiddle of Elspeth’s slender fingers was her last send-off before turning around, heels clicking down the library floor until she was gone. Halena watched as she left, shoulders slumping with relief. The young scholar looked over her shoulder until Elspeth’s footsteps fade and faced Halena, “You looked fit to crawl out of your skin. Are you okay?”
The question passed overhead, the scholar’s warm ocean-colored eyes holding her in place. They were glittering almond shapes devoid of fear or apprehension. She regarded Halena in an alien and comforting way, the gentle pull of a smile on her soft lips even inviting. Her cheeks warmed and she finally answered, “Yes, I-I’ll be fine.”
“If you’re going to try rubbing elbows with Elle, perhaps a better story would help. Not many people will believe an outsider was working for the Moreauxs all the way in Brighthall.” The scholar tipped her head, her blue eyes searching Halena’s tattoos with curiosity before leaning in close enough that she could smell hints of lilac, “Did you actually find one of the Manin scholars slain out there?”
Halena nodded quietly, pulling her gaze to the bookshelves to keep her eyes from lingering on the woman for too long, “Yes, I’m afraid so. A madman with a grudge that was concocting disaster for the county. Brighthall won’t have to worry about him any longer.”
“He was behind the murders in Brighthall? Oh, no…” She frowned and let out a relieved sigh, “Lady Jeanne will be pleased to hear that we’ve been saved the trip. How did you happen across this information, miss?”
“You can call me Halena, and no. I conducted an investigation into the murders.” She dared to look back to the scholar, the jitters of her heart finally calmed.
The bookish woman inclined her head, “Inka Serl of House Ravenwood. My lady has been interested in the case at Brighthall, but she’s been blocked by her fellow ministers from acting.” Her blue eyebrows knit together, “Even if you were contracted by Lord Moreaux, he has never shown interest in anything beyond his mining operations. How were you able to look into the murders without representation from one of the houses?”
“Desperation does not seek representation, I’m afraid. The magistrate took a gamble and hired me to deal with the threat. The whole thing about Lord Moreaux was… just a foolish ruse.” Halena frowned, looking down the path Elspeth had taken out of the library.
Inka’s face brightened, “Oh, good! A freelancer! Lady Ravenwood would be very interested to hear your tale about Brighthall’s murders, especially if it involved a rogue Manin scholar.”
Halena was taken back by Inka’s enthusiasm, blinking at her before snapping, “I’m no minstrel that spins tales for some noblewoman’s evening enjoyment. Lives—even my own—were in danger hunting down this madman.”
Inka shook her head, “No, no, you misunderstand. Lady Ravenwood takes these matters very seriously. She is always looking for certain… open-minded people to take into her house.”
“Elspeth seemed just as interested and my services go out to the highest bidder. Living on the road is a rather expensive lifestyle.” Halena coldly answered, her jaw set with pensive rigidness.
Inka’s hand reached out to touch Halena’s arm, her voice lowering just above a hush, “The Manin Order of Scholars will research this to death, lock that knowledge up, and throw away the key. Lady Ravenwood uses her position in the Arram Ministry to help people—to save lives… Like you did in Brighthall.”
Halena’s heart skipped from the sudden touch, her eyes darting down to Inka’s fingers. She searched Inka’s face for predation, deceit, yet she could only feel the same harmless aura of welcome when their eyes first met.
“I am returning to Lady Ravenwood’s estate tomorrow afternoon. Find the black carriage at the east gate before the strike of noon, and you can ride with me there.” Inka insisted, taking a step back and flashing a warm smile, “Think on it.”
Halena rubbed the spot she was touched on her upper arm, watching Inka turn away with a dazzling wave of her azure mane. The warmth of her presence faded and unsettling quiet hung in the college library, putting her senses on edge. She turned, contemplating the unending shelves of books, but the distant sound of a door opening and closing somewhere in the library’s echoing halls made her flinch away. Halena followed Inka and Elspeth’s path, weaving out into the main walk down to the lobby. Her pace hastened as her feet clap down the stairs and did not slow as she made for the exit.
Once out in the fresh air, she inhaled a deep, clean breath, looking around the library’s stoop for Edward’s red coattails. Her twitching glances grew more frantic, the gentleman nowhere to be seen.
“Where is..? No, no… He told me he’d wait…” She hissed, walking down the steps to scan the walkways and the grassy knoll for her missing escort, “That slimy worm!”
Halena let out an irritated huff, eyes darting around one last time with no luck, and took a seat on a nearby bench. She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, muttering, “Perhaps he’ll be back. Gentlemen are supposed to keep their word.”
An hour of anxious waiting passed and Edward never returned. Her nervous worrying about the man’s whereabouts slowly mulled over into simmering annoyance and contempt as the minutes waned onward. She gritted her teeth, pulling on the hem of her hood to fix it over her eyes.
As she took her leave from the Manin campus, she quietly fumed at the mocking laughter rattling in her head. Retracing her steps through the upper district, Halena paused in front of a shop that had the sweetest aromas pouring from its windows. A pristine sign was painted with a loaf of bread and another winged emblem with an eye in the center hung below. Her stomach churned, forcing her ire aside, begging her to explore the source of the irresistible scents and she wandered inside.
The shop’s interior was spotless, polished wood beams and counters giving the shop’s bones a warm, inviting aura. Lining the shelves and counters, baskets of breads, rolls, and pastries were on display. Halena lingered near the golden-brown rolls and pulls her satchel open to check her reserves. The napkin that held the remainder of her food was missing inside and a sigh escaped her, “Curse my charity for Brighthall’s downtrodden.”
A sunny tone rang from the back of the bakery, a man in a dirty apron giving a small wave to her, “Afternoon! Do you need help finding anything?”
Halena looked up as the man weaved behind his counter, his enthusiasm dims with each step closer, registering the woman’s wild tattooed eyes. She picked up three rolls and a pair of golden croissants to present to him, “No, I think I found what I need. How much for these?”
His brown eyes darted from the bread and up to the woman’s hooded face, “Twenty-seven queensmarks. Do you have a badge?”
“Excuse me?”
The man gestured towards the window, “You saw the sign, didn’t you? Students and faculty only, unless you have one of the emblems of the high houses tucked away under that c
loak.”
Halena pulled out her handful of coins, five more added to her original payment, “I have the money, sir. Surely, your bread is still worth that?”
He rested his hands protectively over the rolls, sliding them away, “No badge, no sale. My business is reserved only for the college and houses, not dirty vagrants. Go get some stale bread from the lower wards.”
Halena frowned, defeated, and wrung her wrists anxiously, “I’m afraid I don’t know where that is. This is my first time in Arras Ando.”
“It’s the southwest quarter of the city. Now, can you manage that, or do I have to call a watcher to drag you there?” The baker inclined his head with an annoyed quirk of his brow.
She nodded, backing away, and shot the baker an incredulous glance over her shoulder as she left his shop. The man’s grumbling reached her ears before she made it out the door, “Better throw these out, damn dirt-ridden dogs.”
The pangs of hunger went away as she heard his comment, the sensation replaced with a sickening pit in her stomach. Halena kept her eyes low as she moved along the fine stones of the street. His words of warning replay in her thoughts as she passed the crucifix statue on her descent, then recalls his directions. Back on the inner ring of the lower district of the city, she walked towards the great lane she came in from, “The east gate… and ugh.”
She covered her mouth and nose with her sleeve, picking up the acrid fumes of smoke that wafted a thin haze over the busy road from the nearby rooftops, “…Southeast quarter.”
Halena made her determined stride to the smoggy quarter, following the wide street’s gentle curve to the right. The road brightened as she passed under the overhead buttresses and she drew her eyes up to the source of the light. Sunlight washed along a great stretch of wall extending from the base of the citadel above. The great ramparts held a dwarfing effect the longer she stared up to them. However, her gawking at the walls caused her to bump into a passing body.