The Palace Job

by Patrick Weekes

  "I wasn't planning to jump," Orris retorted.

  "The justicar makes progress on tracking down the woman," Bi'ul said. "I believe he will locate her soon."

  "So you've come to rub it in, have you?" Orris said bitterly, turning back to glare at the Glimmering Man.

  Bi'ul blinked. "I would have to care about your opinion to, as you say, rub it in." He chuckled at the thought. "No, Orris, I am here to offer you my assistance."

  The air before him rippled, and he reached into that ripple and pulled out the most magnificent suit of armor Orris had ever seen.

  It was an old-fashioned set of plate armor, with chain at the throat and the joints for flexibility. It was black, shimmering like dark vinegar in candlelight. Curved spikes jutted out from the joints. The helmet had a horrific daemon-faceplate, and red lenses set into the eyeholes glowed with a smoky radiance.

  Orris knew that it would fit him. He'd be able to break a man's neck with one hand. He'd laugh while blades glanced harmlessly off him. His voice cracked as he asked, "Why me?"

  "You appear desperate enough to accept it," Bi'ul said, unperturbed. "And I wish for the matter of the escaped prisoners to be resolved. It distracts Archvoyant Silestin from his dealings with me." The Glimmering Man paused. "And I am... troubled by the strange presence I felt on the airship. I wish to resolve this matter."

  "That's the why," Orris said cautiously. "But what's the catch?"

  "There is a cost," Bi'ul said with a shrug. "There is always a cost. In this case, the cost is the soul of a single mortal."

  Orris licked his lips. "Does it have to be mine?"

  Bi'ul smiled. "I would accept Loch's in exchange."

  "You'll have it," said Orris, and reached out to don the Glimmering Man's gift.

  Naria walked through the market square with two guards flanking her and another helping her find her way.

  Then a commotion on the far side of the market caught the attention of the guards, and they left her at a stall on her own for a moment, feeling the soft silks whose beautiful colors she could not see, and a moment later, Icy's voice came to her from above. "Can I offer my assistance, fair Naria?"

  She jumped and turned her face to either side, and when he said her name again, she realized that he was above her, and she raised her arms. His strong hands caught her wrists, and then she was rising into the air, sliding over the awning, and falling into Icy's arms.

  "My indomitable courteous savior returns," she murmured, settling into the awning. Below her, the guards came around the corner and gave startled exclamations at the disappearance of their charge.

  When they were gone, Icy said, "I did not wish to intrude, but if you wished to wander the market with greater freedom, I felt obliged to help."

  "It is no intrusion," Naria said, smiling shyly. "The Archvoyant wishes to protect me, but his protection is often more than I can bear."

  Icy paused. "Are you happy with him?"

  "I was once the daughter of a minor lord," she said, shaking her head. "When bandits killed my family, Silestin saved me. I owe him everything." She sighed. "But there are times when I wish it was not all speeches and appearances, that I were more than just an example of his beneficence."

  Icy let out a long breath. "Perhaps," he said, "if you truly wish a life of freedom, I may offer my assistance..."

  She was so pleased after that that she fell into his arms, and then into his robes, and then Icy and Naria discovered that if one has the proper balance, an awning is a wonderful place to entertain company.

  Cevirt's training room was seeing more action than it had seen in years.

  On one end, Hessler was summoning illusions and then examining them in the mirror with a critical eye. Off in a corner, Ululenia was making grass grow out of the training mats, while in the well padded sparring ring, Loch was working out her tension by teaching Dairy how to fight.

  The boy hit the ground and shook his head. "What did I do wrong that time?" he asked.

  Loch helped him up. "You lifted your shoulder before you punched. Like I said, don't wind up like you're trying to knock over a house. At least, not unless you're distracting your opponent with your other hand."

  "But..." Dairy put a hand to his jaw, a gesture he'd likely learned from Hessler. "That's how to get the most strength from your punch, isn't it?"

  "Sure," said Loch, "but that's not always the goal." When the kid had his arm up like that, it made his sleeve fall down and show off the birthmark on his arm. It looked a little like a big bird and a little like a sword and a lot like a big silvery birthmark with no shape whatsoever.

  Dairy lunged in with a battle cry, and Lock parried, stepped behind him, kicked his ankle out from under him, and gently laid him on the ground. "You fight like a knight, kid."

  Dairy flushed, evidently pleased, as Loch helped him to his feet. "The farmer who raised me said that my father might have been a knight. There was a sword and a dragon stitched into the blanket they found me in."

  "Listen. Fighting like a knight is good if you've got a good sword and a good shield and a good horse," Loch said as Dairy came at her again, "but in this world, the bad guys are better armed and better armored." As he wound back for a punch, Loch lunged in and stopped her speared fingers an inch shy of the kid's throat. "And if we fight fair, they win. Which is why we use every trick we know to stay alive."

  Dairy sheepishly dropped his fist. "I suppose, Captain Loch. But..." He frowned, and then spoke with simple determination. "But it shouldn't be that way."

  "No argument here, kid." Loch turned to see Icy and Kail returning. "Afternoon, gentlemen. How goes it?"

  "Quite well." Icy was whistling and smiling vaguely. "I am feeling well prepared and relaxed."

  "Everybody but me, I guess," Kail muttered. "Captain, can I have a word?"

  "Certainly. Icy, work with Dairy, will you?" Loch gave the kid an encouraging nod. "We're teaching him some combat moves."

  Icy continued to smile vaguely. "I am forbidden by my oaths from causing him injury, but I can evade. And perhaps throw him, very gently."

  "Wonderful. Dairy, remember what I taught you. Kail, with me." Loch nodded to Ululenia and Hessler and left the training hall. "Meeting room?" she asked him after a moment.

  Kail grimaced. "The free bar is ruining my appreciation for bad beer."

  Loch grinned. "How about a kahva?"

  "Cevirt's kahva tastes like dogs have been rolling around in it."

  "I know a place in town."

  They left Cevirt's palace and walked for awhile in silence. Kail seemed troubled, but the range of things that troubled Kail was such that Loch wasn't overly concerned.

  "Looks like Icy's getting some," she said. It was early afternoon, and Tern was right—the stones of the street didn't sound quite right.

  "Who isn't?" Kail gave her a look. "I mean, besides me." "You? I figured you were all worn out from passing time with everyone's mothers."

  They reached the kahva-house. Loch got a kahva with cream, and Kail, as he always did, got some idiotic iced thing with too much sugar and spice and syrup. Still, after drinking rainwater collected from an old leather tarp behind enemy lines, one was entitled to a few creature comforts.

  She sipped her kahva. It was a strong, fresh Urujar blend. "So, what's the trouble?"

  "Why don't you tell me, Captain?"

  She raised an eyebrow. "Tell you what?"

  "Why we're still on this damn job." Kail leaned forward. "You said we'd back out if it didn't look do-able. I need you to tell me that this is looking do-able."

  "We've got the invite," said Loch, sipping her kahva. "We've got a plan for both of the auras, and Tern thinks—"

  "Tern's too busy trying to one-up the death priestess you signed on with us to be logical," Kail shot back, lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. "And the plan involves smuggling a damn zombie into Silestin's vault!"

  "We can—"

  "Is this about your sister?"

  "Naria?" Lo
ch sat back, laughing despite herself. "You think I'd come all the way up here to, what? Rescue her?"

  "Does she need rescuing?" Kail asked evenly.

  "She's playing politics," Loch said. Her fingers cupped the kahva mug. "That's her call. I've got no reason to interfere with that."

  "Then why are we doing this, Captain?" Kail asked angrily. "Why don't you have Cevirt pull some strings, if you want your damn inheritance so much? Or," he added, "if you want to rob somebody, let's rob somebody who doesn't have the Republic's finest security at his disposal!"

  "You know who I saw on the airship, Kail? Jeridan." At Kail's blank stare, she gestured angrily. "Jeridan, from the Cleaners. He was one of that snarling crew of madmen."

  Kail snorted. "Jeridan couldn't fight."

  "He could after whatever Silestin did to him," Loch said evenly.

  "Are you saying—"

  "I don't know what I'm saying, Kail. He attacked me, and he asked me to kill him while he did it."

  "Did you?" Kail sipped his kahva.

  "It didn't come up." Loch cupped her kahva mug again, holding in the warmth. "Whatever Silestin is doing, whatever power he wields, we need to stop him."

  Kail put down his drink. "Last time I checked, you weren't wearing a justicar's stripes."

  "He robbed me, Kail." Loch's fingers hurt. She pulled them away from the mug, saw color bleed back into the knuckles. "While you and I were fighting our way back out of the Empire, he was taking my home, my sister, and using it for his politics. I need this, Kail. I don't need him dead. I just need to beat him."

  He laughed, and Loch felt a tension she hadn't been aware of loosen up in her shoulders. "You're a lousy liar, Captain. But I'll ride through Byn-kodar's hell for you anyway."

  Loch smiled, took his hand across the table. "Thanks. Anything else you need to get off your chest?"

  He grinned sourly. "Yes. Close the deal with whoever you're seducing. The tension is making you cranky."

  "I don't see that being a problem," Loch assured him with a grin. "If I'm lucky, I'll have that wrapped up before Silestin's Victory Ball."

  They finished their kahva and left in silence, but it was the silence of old friends.

  At a table in the corner, out of sight but not earshot from the table where Loch and Kail had been sitting, Justicar Pyvic sat for a long moment in silence. Then he let out a breath through gritted teeth, paid for his kahva, and went to make his report.

  Fifteen

  Pyvic strode past the protesting Elkinsair and into the sitting room to find Silestin drinking a cup of kahva and looking at a book. "Archvoyant."

  "Justicar." Silestin put down the book. "I don't recall us having an appointment."

  "You'll want to hear this, sir." Pyvic took a breath. "I have a strong lead on the whereabouts of Prisoner Loch. My evidence suggests that she may be planning some action against you personally."

  "You don't say." The Archvoyant smiled faintly.

  "I also have reason to suspect that she may be operating with a member of the Voyancy to gain entry into your palace. If you'll allow me to make inquiries—"

  "You vote Skilled, Justicar?" Silestin sipped his kahva.

  "I don't believe that that's relevant at this stage of—"

  "They were the ones who pushed for you," Silestin drawled.

  Pyvic slammed a fist down on Silestin's desk, sending kahva dancing over the edge of the Archvoyant's cup. "I've overcome your political wrangling to solve this case, but even I know the chaos that would erupt if I walked in and arrested a Voyant. I'm bringing this to you first out of respect."

  Silestin cocked his head. "Are you, now? After all the chaos you've caused, you look at the political ramifications now? That's awfully considerate of Voyant Cevirt."

  Pyvic felt the blood drain from his face. "You knew?"

  "What will it look like," Silestin asked softly, "when my people bring in the Skilled Voyant plotting against me, while the Skilled-appointed justicar does nothing?"

  Pyvic looked at Elkinsair, then back at the smiling Archvoyant, and dashed from the room.

  Silestin glared at the corner of the room. "I thought he knew nothing."

  A man-sized silhouette of utter blackness shimmered from the shadows. "He did."

  "Then it'll be close." Silestin gestured. "Go. Take Elkinsair and the hunter with you."

  "Pardon my interruption," said Ambassador Bi'ul from the doorway, "but I wish to help." He gestured, and a massive figure in shadow-black armor clanked into the room. "And I have support."

  "Ambassador Bi'ul," said Silestin with a lazy smile, "you are a treasure."

  "Voyant Cevirt?" Melich repeated.

  "How many justicars have we got?" Pyvic asked. "Right here, within shouting distance?"

  "Twenty," Melich said, still distracted, "more or less. Cevirt?"

  "I need them, Captain." Pyvic leaned forward and lowered his voice, so that the entire station-house full of justicars who'd watched Pyvic dash in couldn't hear him. "Silestin wants to do it himself."

  "Byn-kodar's hell." Melich stood. "You've got them." He walked past Pyvic. "All justicars with me, now. Grab swords and move!"

  They hit the street, Pyvic and Melich and about twenty men and women, some strapping on their swords or tugging on boots.

  "Seven to five, Pyvic," Melich said quietly, one hand on his own sheathed blade, which was plated and gilded and generally impressive as hell because of his captain's status. His other hand clutched the walking stick, and he limped only a little as they marched. "Seven Learned and five Skilled means that the Learned can't pass major legislation unless they compromise to get two-thirds."

  "I'm familiar with the math, sir." He'd have to tell Melich about Loch at some point. It could well cost him his job.

  "If Cevirt is arrested, the Archvoyant picks an interim replacement."

  "Yes, it goes to eight-to-four, and then the Learned can push anything through," Pyvic muttered through gritted teeth. "Well aware of the politics, sir. That's why I went to the Archvoyant first."

  "Kind of stupid in retrospect, huh?" Melich asked without looking over.

  "Might have been I was concentrating on the case and not the politics, sir."

  "Bully for you, Pyvic. That's a comfort."

  "Perhaps you can chew my ass out after we get this settled, Captain?"

  Melich's walking stick clacked with a faster cadence on the cobblestones. "Deal."

  Those who weren't out on the town were having celebratory drinks in the sitting room.

  "I still don't see why the boy has to go with Loch," Hessler said to Tern as he mixed his drink. Loch and Kail were off somewhere, and Ululenia was trying to get Dairy to drink something.

  "Because you're with me, Hessler," Tern said, toasting him gaily with her enormous cocktail glass. "We're the ones dealing with the crystals, and Dairy will be backup for Loch."

  "And I'll be there, too!" Desidora chimed in. Tern glared and began flicking her expensive mechanical lighter. Desidora's wineglass briefly grew a skull, then shifted back to normal.

  "Why can't he stay here in Cevirt's palace?" Hessler asked plaintively. "There's no logical reason for him to come to the party!"

  "First, we might need a distraction," Tern said.

  "Second, he provides a cunning camouflage for Loch as a simple attendant," Ululenia added, holding the drink up to the blushing boy's lips.

  "And third, Loch insisted," Desidora finished, smiling winsomely, "and it's her job. Relax, Magister. The boy will be fine."

  It wasn't as though Hessler cared about that kid. He was barely old enough to shave, and had far too much youthful idealism. If he screwed up, they could all get caught. It was really just enlightened self-preservation.

  "I think we'd all be safer if he stayed behind," Hessler tried. "The kid always seems to press the wrong button or say the wrong thing..."

  As if on cue, Dairy gagged on Ululenia's drink and spat it out in a great spray that crossed the tiny flame pla
ying on Tern's lighter. The liquid ignited in a flaring arc of blue fire, missing Hessler by inches and setting fire to the drapes, the sofa, and Hessler's drink, which promptly exploded in a second gout of blue fire and set fire to the carpet.

  "Case in point!" Hessler added acidly while Tern screamed and started stomping on the flaming carpet. Ululenia gestured, horn flaring, and fluffy white clouds near the ceiling began to shower the room with a gentle spring rain.

  In a few short moments, everything was extinguished but wet and smoky. Cevirt himself arrived and offered some caustic commentary. Dairy, still coughing, apologized profusely, and Hessler observed that nothing would have happened had Tern not been playing with her lighter, which then made Tern glare at Hessler in the manner previously reserved for Desidora, who was laughing lightly and apparently unconcerned by the effect that a sudden spring rain had on her thin robes.

  Ululenia shifted into her unicorn form and nuzzled Dairy aboard, and the two headed off to get something to make Dairy feel better. Desidora went with them at Tern's insistence, given that the unicorn had tried to get the poor kid drunk once already, and also given that Desidora's robes were very wet. Cevirt left to search for more towels.

  "Well, that was a disaster," Hessler muttered, upending a wineglass to dump out the rainwater.

  "Oh, I don't know," said Tern, the only other person in the room. She gave Hessler a sunny smile. "You and I finally have a chance to talk!"

  Hessler squinted. "About what?"

  Tern rolled her eyes and tugged at her sodden brown dress, which now clung to her tightly and outlined all the illegal things she had in her pockets. "Hey, Hessler, maybe you could help me out of these wet cl—"

  She was interrupted by the great crash of the grand door of the palace bursting open.

  Melich had used his captain's authorization to open the palace gates, but otherwise, it was Pyvic's show.

  While Cevirt's palace was a pale shadow of the opulent masterpiece that was Silestin's, it still shouted wealth and taste and old magic. The walls were bedecked with fluted elven vases and priceless dwarven statues and rare fairy paintings that shimmered and glowed in little dances of color. The stairway to the second floor was lit by sparkling crystals set into the railing, and a magical chandelier cast a golden radiance across the hall.