by J. B. Garner
“It is certainly possible, but think about what has transpired, Vela. If you had so much evidence against a normal suspect, would you not be bringing them in? Even if only to keep them off the streets so you can prove their innocence?” He stood up, his uniform rumpled from long hours at work, his feathers ruffled. As he walked around his desk to come to me, he continued.
“In our work, finding truth even as others try to obscure it, we must balance passion with discipline.” He stopped in front of me, looking down into my eyes. “Junior Inspector, you have great passion and I think you have what it takes to be a great detective. With that as the case, what should be done next to find the truth?”
I closed my eyes and tilted my head down. “We need to bring the Silver Bard in.” It didn't feel right to say it, like some kind of betrayal, but the Chief was right. After all, as he said, if she is kept under observation and another murder happens, her innocence will be proven. Or would it? There were so many answers yet to find. I looked back up at Verdigan. “The only way we will manage it, sir, is if you let me take care of it solo.”
“Redmane, what did we just talk about?”
“Chief, I know and the only way to not tip off the suspect and give us the best chance of capture with the least chance of casualty is for me to do it alone. The Silver Bard knows me, has some connection to me, and I believe trusts me.” I set my muzzle and stiffened my stance. “I may even be able to convince her to turn herself in.”
Feathers' beak twisted a bit, perhaps into a frown. “I don't like it.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Still, you may be right. With so much of our manpower in the Second Ward focusing on tracking down more of those bastard Fois and their kidnapped victims, we couldn't spare much either way.”
“Very good, sir.” I saluted again. “I already have a plan in mind, which I'll put into action in the morning.”
He returned the salute, his eyes still uncertain. “All right, Junior Inspector. Rest up and inform me as soon as events are put into motion.”
I left Feathers' office, trying to sort out my feelings from my Duty. I could feel my Compass spinning wildly under my blouse, as directionless as I felt. It was purely without thought that I sent my Herald to Abby Snow for a swift carriage ride to Milady's doorstep.
From Enchantments Baleful and Benign by Sol Yuriji, Myan sorcerer:
There is a vast array of enchantments that can be laid to alter the mind or the emotions. One of the most powerful and durable of these enchantments is the Geasa. The Geasa binds a specific series of rules and restrictions not to the mind or the body, but the spirit of the creature. Such a binding enchantment is almost impossible to resist directly by the target and the spiritual damage caused by forcing the enchanted to perform an action opposite of their Geasa, be it through direct or magical means, can be lethal. Only the most skilled of enchanters or nullomancers can unbind the magic from the enchanted's soul.
From the notes of Lady Alysa Hsu, 16 Octavian 736 PC:
I wanted to give in to the fires of anger. As with love, it’s been years since having to deal with it. Only broke a few mirrors and some old china before found control. It took Tiven's advanced animation formula this time. Not sure if there would be an answer next time.
Xian cleaned up with no questions or judgments, as golems should. Though I told Vela otherwise, told myself otherwise, fear was building steadily. Fear that Redmane wouldn't understand, be taken in by the life-like nature of the Bard's animating spirit, make the wrong decision. I couldn't even focus on finishing the ritual preparations. Hours and days were ticking by and so much to do.
Time flew by, filled with raging and sulking. Didn't notice the sun setting over the City wall, didn't notice ring of the door. I only paid attention when Xian announced that Redmane was here.
Rushing to the door, I ignored the spikes of pain from the legs. She really was there, still hurt, but bandaged, cleaned, and in a fresh uniform. She seemed dazed, conflicted, confused. Needed me to balm her heart, I was sure. Vela made the right choice again.
Took her by the waist and pulled her close. Contrition was the logical approach to mend damage. “Vela, dear Vela, I am so sorry. I should not have been so curt, so callous to your feelings.”
Felt her paws smooth through my hair, savored that tingling feeling of her pads on my scalp. “Milady, no, I should have considered yours.” Arms tangled around my neck and heat continued to rise. “You have helped me every step of the way and given more than I would have asked. I am ever grateful for that.”
Victory was a variable I had not even considered before. Before this, there was no 'winning', no end game, simply finishing the ritual and the mission. I now had a taste so sweet and my still-wakening heart swelled painfully. Just beginning to fully realize the damage done to myself, I wondered how to mend it.
“We have both made our mistakes, beloved.” I pulled back enough to kiss her. “All that matters is that you are here, now.” Another quick kiss. “Let me care for you tonight and let you regain your strength.”
Saw exhaustion in Redmane's eyes as her hands massaged my shoulders. “I would love that most dearly, Milady, but before we retire, I must ask one more boon of you.”
“You know you may ask me for anything, Vela, anything to keep you safe.”
“You have worked on the Silver Bard. You are one of the most talented golemancers of the past decade. I need your expertise and knowledge to answer a question.” Her eyes sharpened as that beautiful mind began to work.
I kept the smile on. One question couldn't hurt. “Ask and I will enlighten.”
“The Bard claims to have half a heart, a partial soul, something shared with a mortal Folk. Is this possible?”
“It is, technically, though such a Folk would no doubt be the Bard's creator.” Quickly added, “Though that really is a flight of fancy, no doubt invented by the Bard. No sane golemancer could do such a thing. It borders on necromancy!”
“Yes,” she said absently. Refocused and continued, “Still, if it were done, would that golem have the potential for free will?”
“Well, you know the answer to this, my dear.” A bit of disarming praise. “You have read my book and have a steel-trap memory.”
Maybe a hint of blush? Hard to tell against red-and-white fur. “Thank you, I suppose you are right. I know the answer.” She kissed my nose. “One last question.”
With no protest, I began pulling us towards the bedchambers. Patient needed her rest, after all. “Very well, but then you must lie down, Inspector.”
Hint of a hungry smile thrilled me. “If a golem had this half-soul, had its free will, could it still be commanded as a normal golem?”
In the heat of the moment, I spilled out the truth. “No, not like any normal golem. That's the danger, you see. That's why we don't follow that practice. Once the golem has its awakening, only powerful sorcery, the enchantments that could bind the spirit, would allow control again, geasas, soul stealing, and those sorts of things.” Had said too much and forced my mouth shut as soon as realization hit.
Understanding lit up in Vela's eyes but passion looked to overwhelm it. “Milady, your brilliance has illuminated me. It is only proper I gave you a proper gift for your efforts.” Her hands, one still wrapped in a bandage, moved to my corset. Should have stopped her, made her rest, but the current carried me along as well.
ACT III – Chained Hearts, Burning Blood
From The City's Herald front page, 17 Octavian 736 PC:
The Walled City is rocked this morning by horrific news coming from the Second Ward. Though Watch officials and Smokehound members are remaining silent, eyewitness accounts from Ward Citizens describe multiple clashes between Watch officers and members of a criminal gang known as the Foi Brothers, alleged smugglers, culminating in a fire and the destruction of a large warehouse owned by the Hsu family. Unconfirmed reports point to a kidnapping and slavery ring run by the Brothers as the scandalous source of conflict. Lord Aiden Hsu, head of the
Hsu clan, has told the Herald that the warehouse was being rented by a seemingly upstanding business concern and that his family has no connection with crimes of any kind.
From the journal of Inspector Vela Redmane, 17 Octavian 736 PC:
Once more I found Duty compelling me to leave Milady's side at an early hour, pained as I was both in body and heart by the prospect. At least the sun had started to rise, a rare thing for me to see living in the lower layers, and I could rouse Milady long enough to give her a kiss before I left. Dressing and gathering my gear, I bid Xian a pointless farewell and headed out into the City.
Though joyfully distracted from both my concerns and my injuries last night, they weighed on me as I took a cheap Folk-powered cab to the Great Stair. At least fulfilling my orders would not require a physical confrontation. That was not in my plans at all and I wouldn't want to try to take a silver-steel, flying golem powered by song magic in any kind of fight. Add to that the glimmer of hope Milady's words had given me, even if I was still a bit suspicious, that the Silver Bard, if fully aware as I believed still, could not be responsible for her crimes, assuming she had even committed any.
Perhaps there was a hint of hope that this day would bring better news than the last.
My original thought had been to go back to the Torch but considering the turmoil in the Second Ward, I didn't want to be rudely interrupted while I put my plan into motion. Instead, I settled for the Branch extending from the Seventh Ward. The Branches that looked out over the Olden Wastes were far less popular with sightseers and all the Branches were open to the skies, providing an easy approach for the Bard. The only unknown was exactly how to summon her. I had an educated guess though.
Zain continued to deal a decent hand that morning. The Branch was mostly deserted, no doubt any potential visitors deep into their labors, and I had a moment to gaze out across the grassy meadows proceeding away from the banks of the Great River. A short ride away, though, the grass turned to scrub and then nothing but rocky soil, blighted by the cataclysmic spells of the Collapse. At the edges of my vision, even that barren land turned into the pure, glowing blight of the Olden Wastes. Sadness swelled in my heart. It almost felt wrong to call such a lovely being into the presence of such ugliness, such horror unleashed by the Folk of times past.
Clearing my thoughts, I set out my manacles, my crossbow, my truncheon, and, most importantly, the enchanted bolt Milady had given me on the thick, stone ledge. I had no idea what exactly would happen, how things could go, and I didn't want to give any indication once our talk began that I meant any violence. Lifting my muzzle up to the sky, mostly clear save for the jutting Branch a few levels above me, I began to sing.
My throat was raw from the smoke the day before, but the words came to me easily. It was the song of the Silver Bard, the one Christabelle had sung, and I found that, no matter how painful it had started, it became child's play to keep up. The beauty of the melody caused my heart to soar and my discomfort to fade. So enraptured by the music had I become that it took me far too long to realize that another voice, far richer and more talented than my own, had joined in, weaving counterpoint to me.
The Silver Bard was not diminished from the last time I had seen her and I found my singing interrupted by my sudden, sharp intake of air. “You came.”
“When the heart of courage sings, I will come on beating wings,” the Bard sang-spoke. “Would I wish it for a sweet embrace, conflict mars your lovely face.” She struck a flourishing bow and again I was struck by the elegance and the flow of seemingly liquid silver. No joints, no grooves. “Speak of what will turn your glower, and I will do whatever is in my power.”
I tried to quiet my hammering heart and cool the heat in my body. “What I have to ask is something I had hoped never to have to.” My eyes focused on the Bard's silver orbs, hoping to divine a reaction. “It is to fulfill my Duty to this great City that I must request you come with me, into custody of the Watch.”
She inclined her head slightly, those vaguely familiar features twisting inquisitively. “You could chain the song? What have I done so wrong? I only listen to my heart, to sing, play, to practice my art.” She shook her head, feline ears twitching. “This cannot stand this noon, the Lady wishes purification soon.”
I raised my hands as a show of peace. I wanted to do more than that, but I had to maintain my composure. “No, please, you must hear me out. There are foul deeds afoot and…” Another steeling breath was needed. “… There are those that think the evidence would implicate your involvement.”
Silver fingers rested on the Bard's lyre, much as a duelist might put her hand on her sword hilt. “Tell me then, courageous heart, tell me then what is your part? What is it your mind says, the one all my heart loves?”
I shook my head, as if to hear clearly. 'All my heart'? I needed to know more than ever who this Lady was. “I only want to help you and find the truth, but I can't do that any other way than this.” Gesturing to the City below us, I spoke plainly. “There has been another murder, one I saw with my own eyes, and what I saw was a figure that looked much like you. There is one that would implicate you in these affairs, but I do not wish to say more in such an open place.”
“If errant ears are your bane” - the Bard wove a single, piercing note into her speech - “speak now and be plain.” The pulse of magic was palpable and the resonance crystal I still carried in my pocket vibrated in time with that note. “My trust to you I have already given, so tell me why to do as you've bidden.”
Though not a sorcerer myself, I could only trust in the Bard's power in this regard, that we would be proof from listening ears and scrying eyes. “There is more than what I saw.” I pulled out the two arrowheads and presented them out to her eyes. “I was told by an expert that this one is yours and was used as part of Qi Foi's murder, while this one pierced the heart of Ruji Foi before my eyes.”
The Bard's eyes widened at the sight of the first arrowhead and she stepped closer, so close I could feel the heat off her metal form, though admittedly part of that came from inside me. She had no sense of the idea of personal space and I frankly found it delightful. The haze, the overload of every sense in the Bard's presence, was finally equalizing in my mind and so I felt I could read her intention as she bent forward, closer to my open palm. I rolled the arrowhead in my hands before holding it up in my fingertips for her to take. Poor evidence control, but I was still filled with that deep sense of trust, even if it was so far unearned.
With delicate fingers, the Bard plucked the arrowhead up and held it close to her face. “This cannot be, this should not be, but to deny it would be untrue. 'Tis my arrow, I see from this view.” As if those words pulled some invisible switch, the silver golem seized up like a statue, leaving me to wonder what bit of hidden programming or lingering enchantment had been triggered.
Bravely, stupidly, I pocketed the other arrowhead before putting my hands loosely on the Bard's shapely waist. That inner warmth still flowed and my fingertips tingled at the smooth metal. “Are you all right?”
“No, sweet Redmane, my thoughts are in twain.” In a swift motion, the Bard moved once again and I found myself in a cocoon of silver arms and gleaming wings. “Bring on the chains, bind the song; end the refrains, stop the wrong. It is the only course that's true, but know that I still love you.” Somewhere in that faint glow under those wings, our lips met again and this time I had the presence of mind to return the gesture.
My rational mind judged my actions harshly. I was fraternizing with a witness, especially one that might not even be considered living, much as I had when I laid with Milady. My heart, though, spoke otherwise and its voice was the stronger of the two. However, as quickly as it had begun, our embrace ended and the Silver Bard stepped back, now seemingly duller and dimmer, holding her silver-steel arms out wrists up before me.
“I am so sorry, my dear,” I whispered as I retrieved my manacles. “Know that I will find the truth, just as you asked me to.”
&
nbsp; There was no song in reply, just a slow nod and a bowed head that put a crack in my heart.
From the notes of Lady Alysa Hsu, 17 Octavian 736 PC:
Should have known the flighty thing would notice eventually. Underestimating the Bard was foolish of me. Too distracted by too many things. Focus, Alysa, focus!
I especially did not predict the news that came after. The Silver Bard in chains. That did not follow any predicted outcome. Had the animating force started acting on its own? No, impossible, had seen it up close, seen the insides. Even a golem could act strangely, interpreting its directives in unusual ways. This particular golem had been exposed to the world for years now; that could make it act in such a bizarre way.
I needed the Bard free within four days. There was a ritual to perform and the Bard was important to it. As Father wished it so, getting it done should not be hard but his way would be blunt, too blunt. Hated the idea of calling upon the bastard, not as I knew he must be hanging a blade over my head, but needed him to stay his hand, to let me do things my way. Hopefully Vela would not find out. I did not want her drawn into this.
Dressed proper, grabbed hooded cloak for anonymity. Didn't like other Folk; hopefully would not need to mingle. As gathered needed things and courage to see Father, wondered if should simply come clean to Redmane. Tell her about the ritual, about Father, about what was to come.
Vela was righteous, knew her duty, but willing to ignore authority when needed. She would understand the need for the ritual, yes?
No, too risky still. Even if she knew, she accepted, would still be in possible danger. Would be safest to keep her in the dark and then for it all to end with ends cut loose neatly.
Meeting with Father was easy to arrange, easier than expected. I was brought to him in his study. Heat stronger now and was difficult to contain anger at the sight of him, pacing swiftly behind his desk.