“Yes. Briefly. He was with Ware for the most part.”
“Speak to him?”
“Briefly,” Thea said again. “He wasn’t paying me much attention.”
“He still doesn’t know who you are?” her mother asked, leaning forward slightly.
“No. Not the truth of it. He asked if we’d met before,” Thea said, a chill running across her skin.
The Ageless were supposed to be able to recognise their kin. It was an old superstition. But many old tales had their roots in truth.
“The more time you spend with him, the more risk he’ll recognise you,” her mother said, face pale, lips pressed together.
“I know,” Thea said, reaching across the table and putting her hand around her mother’s wrist, feeling the far more delicate and fragile bones under the plain cloth sleeve.
“We can leave,” her mother said, turning her hand and clasping Thea’s fingers.
“No,” Thea said, the word out before she had time to think. “This is our home. And you’ve built a business and a life here.”
“But if he finds out who you are, he could make things difficult.”
“I know,” Thea said, voice softer, “but I don’t want to run away.”
She was not sure when that had changed. She had spent most of her life with the fear of Conscription over her head. Knowing that at any moment one of the Ageless or the Archon’s soldiers could appear beside her and take her away from her mother, force her into service for the Archon. In whatever capacity the Archon and the Ageless required. And most likely Thea would not have survived her service, and would never have seen her mother again.
The fear of hands grabbing her, pulling her away from all that was familiar, still woke her at night from time to time.
But she was past the age of Conscription. And she had, slowly, begun building a life of her own. A few friends. A job.
The fear had still been there. An ever-present shadow that she could ignore for most of the time.
Even if she was past the age of Conscription, she was not safe. The Archon ruled the world and her will was law. If the Archon had wanted Thea in the service of the Ageless, and her mother returned to her service with the Archon’s army, then the Archon and the Ageless would make that happen, whether or not it conformed with the letter of the law that the Archon had laid down for Conscription.
It was not just or fair, and it made Thea’s skin itch every time she thought of it. The humans in the city might complain about taxes or tributes, but the Ageless-born and the other non-human residents had far more to fear.
There was nothing she could do, and that made her skin itch even more. Joining the Watch had helped. She could serve some form of justice. Help a few people. It was something, at least.
Thea had spent the few years of her freedom keeping herself quiet and unnoticed as much as possible. Not wanting to draw too much attention. Worried about what the Ageless might do.
And now, she found that she could see past the fear. For the first time in her life.
“You are brave,” her mother said, squeezing her hand.
“I had a great teacher,” Thea answered, returning the clasp carefully. With her extra, Ageless-born strength, she could easily bruise her mother’s wrist. She released her mother’s wrist, picking up her tea and taking a sip. It was almost cold, and she needed to leave soon or she would be late.
“I love that you are brave. But I also want you to be careful,” her mother said, trying to smile.
“As much as I can be,” Thea said, getting to her feet. She cleaned her mug, bent to kiss her mother’s cheek, and left the house. Reardon and the potential conflict with the Ageless would have to wait. She had work to do.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
She was not surprised to find Niath already outside the Watch Station. The mage was dressed in his customary dark robes, eyeing the building in front of him with apparent interest.
“This is a much nicer building than your Watch Station,” he said as she stopped beside him.
“I know. It’s the main station for the city,” Thea said. It did not fully explain the differences between this and Brightfield Station. The captain’s station was always well-ordered, staffed by people who cared about their jobs and the oaths that they had taken as members of the Watch. It was a sharp and cruel contrast to her current posting.
Niath looked across at her and his mouth twitched.
“What?” she asked, heat rising in her face. She glanced down and found pastry crumbs on her uniform. She muttered a curse and brushed them away. Despite trying to be careful, eating breakfast standing up and outside the Harrow bakery was not a neat process.
“A good meal?” Niath asked.
“The Harrow bakery,” Thea said, tilting her head to indicate the direction. “It’s very good.”
“Really? I must try it,” Niath said.
“Perhaps later. We’ll be late if we don’t go in now,” she said, and took a step forward.
He fell into step beside her up the shallow stairs to the main entrance.
The Watchman behind the desk smiled at her.
“Officer March. Good to see you again.”
“Watchman Hobbs. And you. How is your family?”
“All doing well, thank you,” he answered, smiling. She had never been sure just how large a family he had, but he always seemed to have grandchildren or nieces and nephews arriving into the world, or family members celebrating something or other.
“I’m here to see the captain. I think he’s expecting us,” Thea said.
“He is. You’re to go straight up. You and the mage. Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning,” Niath said, and followed Thea around the front desk and to the building’s staircase.
She glanced aside at the main room below. The room was full. The day shift were just coming on duty, exchanging a few words here and there with the night shift. Ensuring an orderly handover.
“Good morning.” The voice ahead of her startled her into almost tripping up the last step of the staircase.
Senior Sergeant Dan Sutter was waiting for them. Perfectly orderly in his appearance, his close-cropped white-blond hair stood out in the dimmer light of the upper landing. He glanced across at Niath and inclined his head.
“The captain is waiting,” Sutter said. From their first meeting, Thea had somehow known that no one called the Senior Sergeant by his first name. Not even his wife, if he had one.
“Are we late?” Niath asked.
“No,” Sutter answered over his shoulder, going into the captain’s office.
“I’ve had a messenger from the Citadel already today,” the captain said. He was settled behind his desk, a stack of papers in front of him, and a scowl on his face that made Thea wonder if they should come back later.
Ware looked up, brows drawn together, mouth tight. He had lost an eye many years before, in service to the Archon. It had been replaced with a false one, and most people could not tell the difference. Until mornings like this, when his own eye was bloodshot from lack of sleep, and his replacement eye was clear.
“Good morning, sir.”
“Sit down, all of you,” Ware said. He continued speaking while they settled on the three chairs opposite his desk. “The Citadel wanted me to know that the Archon is personally concerned by the forgeries.”
A certain dryness to Ware’s tone suggested to Thea that he doubted that the message had come from the Archon. Thea shared his scepticism. The Archon, and the Ageless, were not known for just sending messages. If the Archon herself was truly concerned, the most likely response would be a complement of Archon soldiers and Ageless in the city streets, hunting for the forgers.
“We’ve been given four days to find answers,” Ware added.
“Days, sir?” Thea asked, blinking.
“Indeed.”
“We’d best get to it, then,” Sutter said. He did not seem at all disturbed by the Citadel’s demand. “What’s your plan, Officer Marc
h?”
“Sir,” Thea said, mouth suddenly dry. “I don’t know much about forgeries or making coins. But I did observe the process in the mint yesterday. Whoever is making these coins will need a furnace for metal, and a supply of materials.”
“So, do we search all the metal workers?” Niath asked, brows lifting.
“There can’t be that many places in the city,” Thea said, turning to Sutter. “I wondered if you might know, sir?”
“It’s not something we keep a record of,” Sutter said slowly, expression unfocused as if his attention was elsewhere. “But I can find out. Give me until tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” Thea said. If the Citadel was serious about their four day limit, then they would lose another day. But it could not be helped. And she had confidence that Sutter would manage to identify all the city furnaces far more quickly than she could. She turned back to the captain. “I’m not sure that any of the known furnaces will be minting the coins, but at least it’s somewhere to start.”
“Agreed. What will you do today?” Ware asked.
“Go to the market where the coins were found,” Thea answered. “I know that the Archon’s soldiers have already been there, but they might have missed something.”
Ware covered his mouth briefly and coughed. It sounded more like a laugh, but when he dropped his hand his expression was quite serious. “I’m sure if there’s anything to find, you will find it,” he told her.
“The market is at the outer edge of Wheatcroft,” Sutter told her. “It’ll take you most of the morning to get there on foot,” he added, frowning. Wheatcroft was a large district, and its outer edge was the edge of the city itself. A long way from here.
“I’ve arranged for some transport for us,” Niath said.
“You have?” Thea asked, startled. She had not noticed any carriage outside the captain’s station earlier.
“Yes,” Niath answered.
“You’ll be accompanying Officer March?” Ware asked.
“Commander Reardon and Mage Waters have made it clear that they want the matter resolved,” Niath said.
From his profile, it was impossible to read his expression, but Thea had the strong impression he was not pleased about something.
“It is a city matter,” Ware said, brows lowering.
“I know,” Niath said, still with that stiffness in his voice and posture.
Thea’s stomach tightened. It might be technically a city matter, but the Archon and the Ageless would not allow the forgery to continue. And everyone in the room knew that.
“Thea, I want a report from you at the end of the day. If you can’t find me, speak to Sutter,” Ware said.
“Yes, sir.”
“The captain said you have other matters?” Sutter said. “Do you need assistance with that?”
“Not just now, thank you, sir. I need to speak with the physician and examiner before I decide what to do next.”
“I’ll let them know to expect you at the end of the day,” Sutter said.
“Thank you, sir,” Thea said, blinking. “If that’s all, sirs, I should be going.”
Ware waved a hand and she left his office, Niath at her heels, her mind spinning in a dozen different directions. A blue-headed merchant. A dead woodworker. Forged coins. The memory of fighting the giant octopus. The Citadel’s deadline.
She could only hope that the day ahead would bring some answers.
~
There was a groom with three horses waiting outside the station’s doorway, a pair of Watchmen standing close by, seemingly fascinated by the sight.
Thea did not blame them. Horses used only for riding were a luxury in a city where almost everyone walked to work. The horses that did pass through the city were generally heavy draft horses, pulling brewers’ drays or merchants’ carts.
The three in front of her were beautifully-bred riding horses, of the sort used by the very wealthy. Standing almost as tall as her at their shoulders, their coats gleamed in the morning light.
“I forgot to ask,” Niath said. “I assume you can ride?”
“Ride?” Thea turned to him, then looked back at the horses. “The horses are for us?”
“Well, yes. So, can you?”
“It’s been a long time,” Thea said, approaching the nearest horse. It was a dark bay, with black-tipped ears that turned towards her. She held a hand out and let the horse breathe across her skin. It had been a long time.
Riding lessons had been one of the few things she had truly loved as a child. She had memories of riding next to Theo, the pair of them galloping their ponies across the seemingly endless stretches of grassland behind the Citadel they had called home.
Since then, since the awful day falling through the sky and seeing her twin’s body still and lifeless, she had only been on a horse a few times. A rare day off for her and her mother, hiring ponies from one of the local merchants and riding along the river bank towards the sea.
“I thought this might be easier than a carriage,” Niath said, snapping her out of the memory and into the here and now. He was frowning at her.
“Yes,” Thea agreed, lips curving into a smile. She put her hand on the horse’s neck, feeling the warmth and muscle under her skin. “Which one is mine?”
“That one,” Niath said, face relaxing into a smile. “He seems to have chosen you, at any rate. This is Sam,” he added, indicating the groom.
An elderly human, with a face that had seen years of outdoor wear, he stood barely as high as Thea’s shoulder. He had wiry grey hair and vivid blue eyes and Thea liked him immediately.
“Let me get you settled, miss,” he said, taking a step forward. “This is Hern. He’s a five-year-old, so still has a bit of nonsense in him from time to time, but he’ll look after you.”
Fascinated, Thea let Sam tell her all about the horse, and watched carefully as he went over the horse’s harness. Only when Sam was satisfied that she had learned enough did he boost her into the saddle.
For a moment, Thea swayed, too far from the ground, then Hern shifted under her, turning his head and looking back at her. He was solid and real underneath her. She leant forward a little and patted his neck.
“Shall we go?” Niath asked.
Whilst she had been settling herself, Niath had got onto one of the other horses, a deep chestnut mare. Sam was getting onto the last horse, a deep brown mare.
“Yes,” Thea said.
The horse moved forward and she was lost in memory again for a moment, her body adjusting to the motion as if she had been riding all her life, remembering wind against her face, the familiar and welcome scent of horse around her, and Theo’s laughter.
The memories faded and she was back in the city of Accanter, her Watch badge gleaming in the morning sun, riding out in the company of a Citadel mage and a Citadel groom. There was work to do.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The journey across the city to Wheatcroft seemed to take no time at all. Certainly far faster than it would have taken Thea to walk the distance, and far more pleasant, for her at least, than being confined to a carriage.
Niath was quiet on the journey, letting her take the lead, with Sam bringing up the rear. Normally Thea did not like having strangers at her back, but she sensed no threat at all from Sam.
It was late morning by the time they reached the market on the far side of Wheatcroft. The market was an open patch of land at the edge of the district, any hint of grass long since worn away by the traffic through the market.
One end of the market was taken up with stall traders. There were no permanent stalls here, just a haphazard array of carts and tables made from old barrels and mis-matched wooden planks.
The other end of the market was for livestock, pigs kept in pens, a few cattle tethered under the watchful eyes of their owners, and a small flock of sheep in a pen next to the pigs.
Thea turned her horse away from the edge of the market to a quieter spot along a nearby street and slid out of the saddle. She m
isjudged the distance to the ground and jarred her teeth on impact, her legs not wanting to work properly even after the short time in the saddle.
Beside her, Niath got off his horse far more elegantly than she had, and handed his reins to Sam.
“Sam will look after the horses,” Niath said.
“Thank you,” Thea said, drawing the reins over her horse’s head and handing them up to Sam as well.
“There’s a tavern down there that has a water trough,” Sam said, pointing. “I’ll wait there for you.”
“Thank you,” Niath said. He held something up to Sam that looked like a small purse.
Sam took it without protest and turned the horses away, the riderless horses happy to go with him along the street.
“Does Sam work for you?” Thea asked.
“He does now,” Niath said.
Thea lifted her brows, but he shook his head slightly. Not wanting to discuss it. But Thea had more questions. “Does that mean that the horses are yours, too?”
“Shall we talk about this another time?” Niath asked, avoiding her eyes. “I didn’t think markets lasted all day.”
It was true. Most markets closed in the early afternoon to give the sellers time to pack up and get home at a decent hour. Still, Thea hesitated, wanting an answer from Niath.
He turned his shoulder, facing towards the market. Definitely not wanting to discuss it.
“Later, then,” she said, heading towards the market.
The first stall holder she came across was happy to talk about the disruption that the Archon’s soldiers had caused.
“They came storming into the place,” the woman said. She was a tiny, elderly woman with a piercing stare from vivid green eyes, hair hidden under a faded headscarf. She had a slender black pipe in her mouth that she removed and held out, indicating where the soldiers had come into the market. “Twenty or fifty of them. Knocking over things. Demanding answers.”
“What did they want to know?” Thea asked.
“Where the coins had come from,” the stall holder said, her pipe back in her mouth. She clenched her teeth around it for a moment. “As if any of us knew.”
False Dawn: Ageless Mysteries - Book 2 Page 11