by B. K. Boes
“Yes, there are guards, but I think we can still get in. My father used to live in Eunoya when he was a boy. He used to tell us stories of how he got to see into all these magnificent buildings by working in them. Jobs were handed out to those who came first, young or old.” She bit into her own loaf, chewed, and swallowed. She pointed at the High Court with her bread. “I bet it works the same here.”
“How do we find out?” Jabin asked.
“We go and ask.”
“What if the guard from yesterday recognizes us?”
“He’s probably nowhere near here. Yesterday he was guarding the front. There are dozens of guards up there.” Mae finished off her bread. “Let’s go,” she said.
Jabin swallowed the last of his meal and followed Mae through the crowded street and up the steps to the back corner of the High Court. A guard stepped in their way, just like before.
“The Stewardess has no need for more workers today,” he said.
“Are you sure?” Mae asked.
“I already turned away half a dozen just like you. If you want a day’s wages, be here tomorrow at sunrise. That’s when the Stewardess will begin taking workers.” He waved them off. “Go on, now. We don’t like loiterers.”
“Yes, sir,” Jabin said. They turned and descended the stone steps.
“You see?” Mae said, smiling. “All we have to do is show up first, get in, and then sneak up to the rooftop.”
“And you’re sure this is the right building?” Jabin said. “I thought you wanted confirmation.”
Mae nodded. “Yes, well, if we get here at sunrise, I’ll confirm it early in the morning. I’m pretty sure this is the right building. I know it’s not the duke’s estate. There was no wall between her and the Mercy Bell. The other two seem to be at the wrong angle.”
“All right,” Jabin said. “But, how are we going to sneak to the rooftop without being noticed? Surely they’ll be watching us.”
Mae shrugged. “One step at a time, Jabin. We’ll have to figure it out tomorrow.”
Jabin didn’t like it, but they were out of choices. “At least we’ve got a plan of some sort,” he said. “We should get back to The Northern Emerald. We’re going to need to go to bed early if we’re to wake before dawn.”
They walked back through the city to the inn, mostly in silence. It had been a long day, and Jabin was exhausted. It was still light outside when he plopped down on the little bed in a corner room of the inn. Mae’s room was beside his, and he stared at the connecting wall for a long time. Doubts rolled through his head, one after the other.
Whatever happened tomorrow was in the Sustainer’s hands now.
Jabin and Mae arrived at the servants’ door to the High Court before sunrise. They were the first ones there, and the guard let them wait for the stewardess under the portico. As they sat, Jabin tapped his finger on the cool stone floor. He wanted to say something light-hearted, but he couldn’t find the words. Mae sat cross-legged beside him, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. As the sun rose, Jabin noticed her pale complexion.
She’s nervous, too.
In some way, that comforted Jabin. This was something that should make them nervous. But, he hated to see her like that.
I don’t need a brother. I need a friend.
Her words echoed in his mind as he watched her out of the corner of his eye. She was biting her lip and rearranging herself every few seconds. At every little sound — the grunt of a guard or the flap of a bird’s wings — she jumped and glanced at the door.
“Mae?” Jabin said, his voice soft.
“Yes?” She didn’t look at him.
“It will all work out,” he said.
“I want to believe that…” Mae turned and offered a half-smile. “I’m suddenly not so sure. I felt more confident yesterday.”
Jabin took her hand. “There’s no backing out, now, right?”
“Right,” Mae said. “No backing out.”
“We’re going to save the woman from your vision,” Jabin said. We have to; we’re the only ones left.
“Thank you for being here, Jabin.” Mae squeezed his hand.
Jabin smiled and squeezed her hand back. Before he could say anything else, the door to the High Court opened on creaking hinges. A woman stepped out, her plain brown, floor-length dress swishing at her feet. Her graying hair was up in a tight bun at the back of her head. She stepped past Jabin and Mae, squinting as she looked up and down the portico. When she finally saw them sitting on the floor, she jumped and put a hand to her chest.
“Goodness!” she gasped. “What are you doing, just… just… sitting there?”
Mae and Jabin looked at each other, pulling back their hands. Jabin looked up at the woman as he scrambled to his feet. “We’re here to get a day’s work, ma’am.”
“Obviously,” she said with a frown. “Next time, don’t lurk in the shadows. Were you trying to scare me out of my skin?”
“No.” Mae shook her head. She stood beside Jabin, cheeks flushing. “No, ma’am.”
The woman sighed. “Call me Ms. Ains, if you will. I’m the Stewardess of the High Court. You’ll answer to me first and my girl, Sadie, second.”
“Yes, Ms. Ains,” they both responded at the same time.
“Well, then, come on.” She waved at them. “Sadie is inside. She’ll get you to work right away.”
They scurried past the Stewardess into the dimly lit hall. Another woman, much younger, was at the end of the hall with an array of buckets, mops, and rags.
“Moppin’ or shinin’?” she said as they approached.
“What?” Mae asked.
Sadie faced them with raised eyebrows. “Moppin’ the floors…” She pointed at the mops and buckets of water and then to the pile of little wax tins and rags. “Or shinin’ the brass fixtures?”
Mae leaned in toward Jabin and whispered. “Shining will take us all over, I bet, and not in one place too long.”
“We’ll both take shining,” Jabin said.
Sadie handed them each an apron, two wax tins, and several rags. “Keep supplies in your pockets,” she said. “You two take care o’ all the door handles. I’ll have the next one take care of the light fixtures on the walls. There’s a lot o’ brass door handles. Start here in the west wing and move to the east. Floor by floor. No need to go below this level. No need to go above the third floor. I want ‘em all shined and pretty-lookin’ before end of day.”
Jabin and Mae nodded.
“Good,” Sadie said. “Come back here for bread and cheese at midday. Now, the guards’ll check ya before you leave this evenin’, so don’t try to steal nothin’. Got it? They’ll ship ya off to the jailhouse in no time. We don’t take stealin’ lightly.”
They nodded again, and Sadie turned to a child half Jabin’s age who had come up the hall as they were speaking. Once they’d all gathered supplies, they followed Sadie’s directions to the west wing where door handles were to be polished. Jabin’s eyes widened when they stepped into the spacious hallway. It seemed to stretch for forever. Huge glass windows at each end let natural light into the hall. Blackened stone recesses interrupted the smooth walls, each one with a bronze statue of a man at its center. The statues all supported a brass bowl on one shoulder, bright fires emanating a bit of light into the hall. It was a symbol connected to law and order; men illuminated the world when they carried the light of justice on their shoulders.
“There have to be a hundred handles in this hallway alone!” he said as he stared down the wide hall.
“This is the biggest hall, I think,” Mae said. “A couple dozen hallways shoot off from here, but I don’t think we’ll have too much trouble getting the first floor done before lunch.”
“We’re actually going to polish all the handles?” Jabin asked.
“Not all of them on every floor. We won’t have time for that. You get started on this floor. I’m going to find my way to the rooftop to see exactly where the woman fell, off the roof of the west
wing or off the roof of the east.”
“What if someone sees you?” Jabin asked in a whisper. “Sadie said we shouldn’t go above the third floor.”
“There’s no one else in here, except for the servants,” Mae said. “I’ve got to get a better idea of exactly where she fell. Then, determine the best route up to the roof from the second floor.”
“So, we finish the first floor, get lunch, and then sneak up closer to the thirteenth hour,” Jabin said as he nodded. “If you know the easiest way up to the roof, and where she’ll fall, we can sneak away and save her before anyone even notices we’re gone.”
“Exactly,” Mae said, her dimpled smile returning.
“Sustainer be with you,” he said.
“And you,” Mae said as she turned, walking quickly down the hall.
Jabin watched until she turned into another hall out of sight halfway down. He looked down at the apron tied around his waist. The tins of wax weighed down one pocket while the rags bulged out of another. Combined with his cheap shoes and travel-worn clothes, he truly looked the part of a servant boy.
He turned to the first door and began his task. As he worked, he noticed other hired hands coming into the hall. The little boy who had come in after them had chosen to mop. A girl who looked a little older than him was polishing the bronze statues.
A few men walked the halls this early. Jabin saw at least one judge and a few guards. But none of them seemed to notice him. As he polished, he wondered what it was like to live life as a laborer or servant. He wondered if Noba ever felt unseen or ignored. To him, she was almost part of the family, having helped to raise him and his sister. Noba was a constant, always there, always cooking or mending, sometimes scolding.
But when was the last time I showed her real gratitude? Jabin thought as he worked. I’ll have to do something nice for her when I get back.
An hour passed with no sign of Mae. For a time, Jabin was lost in contemplation, but eventually, he began to worry.
Where is she? Did someone catch her?
He kept looking over his shoulder, toward the hallway where Mae had disappeared. He debated with himself whether he should go looking for her.
No. I have no idea where she is. This building is so big…
A grunt sounded from behind him. Jabin jumped and looked to the doorknob, which he realized he’d been polishing for several minutes longer than it needed. He turned to find an old man in long, black judges robes, a woman behind him.
The judge frowned. “These are my chambers,” he said.
“Oh!” Jabin moved out of the way. “Sorry,” he said as the judge scowled at him and threw open the door.
“Come, Ravilla,” the judge said, his voice harsh and grating.
As the woman followed him inside, her eyes met Jabin’s for just a moment. The otherwise smooth skin around her eyes was reddened and puffy, her nose a shade of pink. She had a cracked and swollen lip, as though someone had struck her. Her dress was richly dyed red linen, and the skirts were layered as was the fashion. The whole piece was tailored perfectly to her form; however, it was wrinkled as though she’d been wearing it for days. Her hair looked as though it might have been pinned back gracefully at one time but was now unraveled and disheveled.
A chill passed over Jabin at the look in her eyes. They were empty, as though she’d been bled dry of emotion. As she reached for the door, he noticed her wrist was bruised badly. The moment passed, and Jabin stared after her as the door closed.
“Jabin.” Mae came up beside him.
Jabin jumped again and turned to find Mae. “Where have you been?” he asked, trying to keep his voice down.
“I was looking for a way to the roof,” she said. “What are you doing just standing here? They want to see us working.”
“Um…” He glanced one more time at the door through which the woman had gone. “Nothing,” he said.
Mae punched his shoulder. “Are you trying to get us caught or thrown out? Come on, let’s get back to work.”
“Right.” Jabin walked with Mae to the next set of doors. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
Mae nodded. “She’ll be on the rooftop above the west wing. I’m sure of it.”
“Mae… what was the woman wearing? Do you remember?” Jabin asked as he looked back over his shoulder, following a gut instinct.
“It’s kind of blurry,” Mae said. “But I think it was a red dress. A nice one.”
Jabin stopped. “I think I just saw her.”
“What?” Mae’s eyes went wide. “Where?”
“She went with a judge into those chambers,” he said, pointing to the doors. “She looked… upset.”
Mae crinkled her brow. “Really?”
“Do you remember how she felt when she fell?” Jabin asked. “Did she seem afraid beforehand? It looked like someone had assaulted her. Is it possible she was pushed?”
Mae’s eyes widened. “I don’t know. I don’t feel others’ emotions in my visions. They’re not that strong. Not many oracles can do that.”
“I know,” Jabin said. “I was just hoping…”
“You think someone pushed her?” The color drained from Mae’s face. “All I saw was her falling. I didn’t really see what happened before that.”
“I don’t know,” Jabin said. “But we should bring something with us to defend ourselves. An iron rod from a fireplace or something.”
“The fourth floor has several rooms completely unused, doors standing wide open,” Mae said. “I think I saw a few fireplaces as I passed them.”
“Good.” Jabin said. “This may have gotten more complicated. Preventing an accident is a different beast altogether than trying to stop a murder.”
Mae put her hand to her stomach. “I feel sick,” she said. “I… I didn’t expect this.”
“If we’d stayed with Oracle Lan, he would’ve been able to help you figure this out beforehand.” Jabin pressed his lips together and looked down at his feet. But there was no sense in dwelling on what could have been; they had to deal with the here and now. “Maybe we should try to stop her before she gets to the rooftop. We need to keep an eye on her.”
“You two!” Sadie shouted down the hall. “Quit yappin’ and get back to work!”
Jabin and Mae snapped to attention. They couldn’t get thrown out. Not now.
“Yes, ma’am,” Mae said as she waved and smiled. Her smile disappeared when she turned back to Jabin, whispering quickly. “We have to work this hall slowly until she comes out.”
Jabin nodded, and they split up. They worked for another hour, as slow as they could. But the woman still hadn’t come out of the judge’s chambers when they finished the last handle. Although, muffled shouting and arguing from behind the door had drawn the attention of everyone in the hall more than once.
Is it the judge who kills her? How are we supposed to stop a judge?
Over the course of the hour, the hall had become busier, with judges, peacekeepers, scribes, guards, apprentices, and advocates coming and going. The main hall of the first floor seemed to be where judges of higher authority had their individual chambers. The others always went straight to the next level. People were watching. It would be harder for two workers to sneak away now, much less with iron rods in their hands.
Sadie appeared at the end of the hall and began waving down the workers to come back to the servants’ hall for their lunch. Jabin looked at Mae, who shrugged and began walking toward him.
“We can’t draw any attention to ourselves,” she said as they walked together. “She doesn’t fall until the thirteenth hour. We still have some time.”
Jabin opened his mouth to speak but fell silent as the door they’d been watching opened. Another chill went down his spine as the judge came out and locked the door behind him. There was no sign of the woman.
“Are you sure those are the chambers she went into?” Mae whispered.
“Yes. I recognize the judge who led her inside,” Jabin said, avertin
g his eyes so as not to be caught staring.
“He’s locking her in?” Mae’s eyes went wide. “How does she get to the roof?”
“I don’t know,” Jabin said. “Maybe I was wrong. It could be a different woman in your vision.”
“But she wore a red dress?” Mae asked. “A nice one, like a noble lady might wear?”
“Yes.”
Mae bit her lower lip. “I haven’t seen any other women here that fit that description.”
“I don’t know, Mae.” Jabin watched the back of the judge as he stalked off down the hall, paying them no mind. He looked at the locked door, wondering who the woman was who stayed behind it. Mae tugged on Jabin’s sleeve and nodded toward Sadie, who was narrowing her eyes in their direction. There was nothing to do but follow the other day-laborers. They picked up their pace, leaving the woman and the door behind.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Moloch
The City of Pytar, Ergon
8th Cycle of Chenack
989 Post Schism
The second dinner with King Gonnoss was moved to the afternoon due to a last-minute strategy session to deal with the Adikeans at Radelle Heart’s Bridge. It went only slightly better than the first dinner. It didn’t help that Moloch still felt ill from the poison and that he had less time to prepare.
His illness was manageable, but he was weak and tired, with little appetite. His nerves were on edge. And it crossed his mind that Lord Nondrum may have influenced the change in time to throw Moloch off.
Well, if he did, it’s working, Moloch thought as he finished off his pheasant. The clinking of silverware against fine china was dwindling. The time for talking was fast approaching, but Moloch’s stomach was gurgling. He’d eaten more than he should have so as not to offend the king. A wave of nausea hit, but Moloch took a drink of water and pressed his lips together.
Gonnoss finally finished his dinner and took a long swig of ale. As servants began to clear the table, he met Moloch’s eye. “Against my brother’s urging, I want to hear exactly how you plan to destroy Radelle’s Heart and the Western Pass. I won’t tolerate the use of dark arts, if that’s what you’re thinking.”