The Palace Job

by Patrick Weekes

  He yelled, dropped her, and stepped away, and she hit the ground and stayed on her feet through sheer force of will. He reached up to close the visor, and she lunged in and broke his nose. Orris stumbled backward, flailing wildly, and she grabbed hold of the upturned edge of his visor and used the leverage to wrench him into the railing.

  "I..." She hit him in that sneering face, still holding him up by the edge of his visor. "...knew..." Again. "...it..." And again. "...was..." And yet again. "...you!" The final punch struck him with such force that he spun and hit the railing, and he teetered over the edge. Loch grabbed him by the feet and heaved, and Warden Orris left Heaven's Spire once and for all.

  Loch would have given a lot to lean there on the railing, hurting from a hundred injuries and bleeding in at least four places, and watch Orris hit the ground. But if they'd found her then, she'd always have wondered if Orris had slowed her down enough to let her get caught.

  Elkinsair and Bi'ul had taken Voyant Cevirt, leaving Pyvic and his justicars behind.

  The daemon had vanished when the chandelier fell, and most of the justicars were still alive. When the golems had attacked, they'd reacted well. Melich would be proud.

  Would have been proud, Pyvic corrected with a knifing grief, crawling toward his captain and ignoring the long and jagged pain where one of the golems had been too fast.

  Melich's eyes fastened on him as he crawled over.

  "Not your fault," Pyvic's captain rasped. Blood flecked his lips.

  "It is." Tears burning his eyes, Pyvic finally collapsed. "I went to Silestin. I didn't get here fast enough. Damn the gods, I fell for her."

  "Pyvic." The word bubbled in Melich's mouth. "Not your fault." He gestured with the hand that wasn't holding the wound at his ribs. "They're yours, now. Protect them."

  "I will." Pyvic forced himself to his elbows. "We'll get you to a healer, Captain. We'll—"

  "Protect them all, Pyvic." Melich lay back, shut his eyes with a final rattling sigh, and died.

  Sixteen

  "The arrest of Voyant Cevirt, a prominent member of the Skilled Party and the first Urujar in the Voyancy, comes as a shock to the Republic," the dragon proclaimed solemnly to the hushed crowd. "It also raises many political issues on Heaven's Spire."

  "Well," said the manticore, rearing up, "I don't think you can have this conversation without asking whether this was a Skilled cover-up from the beginning."

  "We don't even know why Cevirt was arrested!" the griffon protested. It tried to rear up as well, but the dragon tripped it with its tail to the laughter of the crowd.

  "Voyant Cevirt was arrested for harboring the prisoners who had escaped from Heaven's Spire," the manticore said seriously, lashing out with its scorpion stinger. "The Skilled justicar who was assigned to the case did a completely unacceptable job, and it was Archvoyant Silestin's personal investigators who actually made the arrest."

  "But witnesses saw the justicar going in first!" the griffon shouted. The manticore pounced on it, and the griffon ran away, trying to fling the manticore off.

  "And now," the manticore shouted, "we've learned that the prisoner who masterminded all of this was in fact Isafesira de Lochenville, Voyant Cevirt's god-daughter, who was presumed lost behind enemy lines during the war!"

  "The arrests would have been made peacefully without the interference of the Archvoyant's—" The griffon broke off as the dragon swatted it.

  "Please, please!" it roared, belching flames as the griffon and the manticore cringed away and the crowd laughed. "Please try to keep this civil. This is not a forum for personal attacks!"

  "The Skilled have been soft on Imperials for years, " the manticore declared, "and now a possible Imperial agent comes to the Spire, and a Skilled Voyant helps her?"

  "We have no proof that Isafesira de Lochenville is an agent of the Empire!" the griffon protested weakly.

  The manticore wasn't even listening. "I think that decades from now, children in their schools are going to ask, 'How did they respond to this threat?' Now is not the time to question Archvoyant Silestin. Now is the time to let the Archvoyant do his job."

  "Strong words in dangerous times!" the dragon declared, turning to the crowd and throwing out candy. "Remember, everyone, it's your republic!"

  "Stay informed!"

  "Explain to me," Pyvic said to Archvoyant Silestin, "why I shouldn't have you arrested."

  "Because my assistants would break your arms," Silestin said, smiling faintly. "And then you'd be out of a job."

  "Six justicars died because of your assistants." Pyvic took an angry step toward Silestin, narrowing his eyes when the golden-armored man raised a spear.

  "Six justicars died because Isafesira de Lochenville, sister of my adopted daughter Naria, refused to come along peacefully," Silestin answered without heat.

  "That's garbage, Archvoyant." Pyvic considered the golden-armored man. He'd killed two of Pyvic's friends. "Maybe I'm arresting the wrong person."

  "Hunter Mirrkir would be harder to arrest than you think." Silestin was still smiling. "And it doesn't matter what happened in that room. Would you like to know why?"

  "Politics," Pyvic said in disgust.

  "Politics," Silestin agreed, and then lost his smile. "So listen carefully, boy. You lost six, and that's sad. Those were good men and women serving the Republic. They're heroes." Silestin's voice was as commanding as when he'd led in the field. "Lochenville was lost behind enemy lines. The investigation determined that she'd likely deserted or turned for the Empire. Cevirt had that report changed, ostensibly to protect my daughter Naria. When Lochenville returns, she's arrested trying to break into the Spire. She escapes, then comes back up to the Spire again, and you yourself admit that she's planning something aimed at me. And when we find her, she's living with Cevirt, who's been blocking the vote on trade sanctions against the Empire for the past few months."

  "You think she's an Imperial agent?" Pyvic asked skeptically.

  "I don't know what in Byn-kodar's hell to think!" Silestin thundered. "But it's my job to protect the Republic! If she looks like an Imperial agent, I'm going to do whatever it takes to stop her! If it looks like the Skilled are being bought by the Empire to keep us weak and rudderless, I'm going to push legislation through however I can!" His voice lowered ominously. "And if a justicar tries to stop me, I will cut off the justicars like a diseased limb. Do you hear me, Pyvic? You lost six. How many more are in the temples with the Republic paying for their treatments? How many widows are feeding their children on a justicar's pension?" He stepped forward and stood eye-to-eye with Pyvic. "I've got no problem with them, Justicar, but if you force me to choose between protecting the Republic and protecting your people, I will. And you won't like the choice."

  They're yours now. Protect them.

  "I understand, sir." Pyvic stepped back, lowered his gaze respectfully.

  Silestin nodded slowly. "I'm glad we do, Justicar." He smiled. "I mean, Captain. It's interim, I know, but I don't see any reason why it won't be approved."

  Pyvic forced the words through the ashes that clogged his throat. "Thank you, sir."

  "Dismissed, Captain. Oh, and please feel free to come to the Victory Ball." Silestin gave him a grandfatherly smile. "It'll be a good chance for you to meet people."

  They'd all gotten to the garden where they'd first landed. On the way, they'd sneaked past a puppet show and heard the news.

  "So," she said to them quietly, "the question is, do we continue?"

  Tern gave Loch a stare that, magnified by her spectacles, took up close to half her face. "I thought the question was, how do we get down? Or maybe how long can we hide up here? Or possibly even what the hell was I thinking to get involved in this in the first place?"

  "You were thinking of money," Hessler said shortly, "or pride, or the challenge of cracking the world's most difficult safe. Don't blame Loch. You got into this yourself, and it's intellectually disingenuous to suggest oth—ow!" He began hopping, holdi
ng one shin.

  "Are we, in fact, Imperial agents?" Icy asked curiously. "If so, I will adopt the necessary patriotism."

  "That's a big if, Icy." Kail looked at Loch, and she must not have kept the hurt and surprise from her face. "Captain, if there's any chance, I'm with you, but if we continue, we're doing it without Cevirt's invitation, without any more research on Cevirt's console, and without any special equipment. We've got a palace full of guards, not to mention Silestin's Blades and everyone who attacked us back at Cevirt's place."

  Ululenia looked haggard, and her horn was dim, gray rather than incandescent white. Hessler had one arm bandaged. Loch herself probably looked the worst of all of them.

  "You remember how Kail and I got stuck behind Imperial lines?" she asked. "And when we came back, my father's barony was gone?"

  Kail grimaced. "Loch, this isn't the time."

  "What I failed to mention," Loch went on, "was that the mission that sent me behind the lines was given to me personally by Colonel Silestin. He said it was a secret mission, and that we would meet with his army deep in Imperial territory and use the information I'd gained to plan an even deeper assault."

  "Tactically sound," Icy noted.

  Loch nodded. "And when we got to the rendezvous point, Silestin's army wasn't there." She grimaced. "We spent a long, ugly time behind enemy lines, then got home and found that we'd been written off as dead or deserted. I talked with a few old friends from other units. There was no assault plan. Ever."

  "He sent you off to die," said Tern in a small voice.

  Hessler sniffed. "You expect us to believe that Silestin hated you enough to make up some phony mission?"

  "Shut up, Magister," Loch said without looking at him. "While I was deserting, my father's well-defended and strongly fortified castle was overrun by bandits, and only the incredibly convenient arrival of Silestin's forces saved my sister, who was promptly adopted by Silestin so that he, as caretaker for my family's land, could use Lochenville's resources to fund his run for the Voyancy." She finally turned to Hessler. "Connect the damn dots."

  Tern shifted, her boots squeaking on the wet grass. "He sounds like a monster. No argument. But I didn't sign on for assassination."

  "Neither did I," Loch said firmly. "He killed my parents. He took my barony. I could kill him with a clean conscience. But I'd rather rob him." She looked around at the others. "The elven manuscript is worth more than Silestin could ever understand. If I sell it back to the elves and split it with you all, I can buy enough support to make Silestin pay for his crimes in public. That's all I care about. And in my opinion, Kail, we can still do it." She let out a breath. "We had what we needed. The only thing that's changed is that we need a new way into the palace, but with the crowd swarming in for the Victory Ball, I think we can manage something."

  "What of our foes?" Ululenia said, her voice shaky. "Their spearman's foul magic overcame me."

  Hessler nodded. "And the Glimmering Man stole my illusion and gave it solid form, which... well, either one would be difficult from both an energetic standpoint and a conceptual metamagical perspective..." He coughed, seeing the stares. "He's powerful."

  "Agreed." Loch nodded. "If we go forward, we need a way to avoid, distract, or negate them both."

  "You can't just agree with me!" Hessler sputtered. "You agree and then act like that's something we tackle later. If we can't tackle it now, there is no later!"

  "But we have to, Mister Hessler!" Dairy exclaimed. "We have to stop these men! Stealing this book won't defeat them, but it will hurt them, right, Miss Loch?" Loch nodded. "Then we have to do it," he finished. "We have to. I'm with you, Miss Loch, whatever anyone else says."

  "Where my virgin goes," Ululenia said with a wan smile, "so go I." Loch nodded to her. That made three, or four if Kail stayed.

  "You can't... Dairy, you don't have to..." Hessler waved angrily. "This isn't the proper way to.... Fine, I will remain, pending a plan for dealing with the spearman and the Glimmering Man and that fellow who was wearing the armor of shadows, which, as I recall, leant its wearer invulnerability and superhuman strength."

  "But not flight," Loch said dryly. "He's out of the picture."

  "I humbly wish to continue," Icy said without further explanation.

  "I'm in," said Desidora.

  "Besyn larveth'is!" Ghylspwr added.

  "Oh, of course she is!" Tern said bitterly. "It's a chance for her to raise a zombie for a good cause! Maybe she can steal a few souls while she's at—"

  "Want to know the truth about Byn-kodar, Tern?" Desidora asked conversationally. "Want to know why I left Tasheveth the love goddess?" Tern's apple cheeks paled at the death priestess's stare. "The truth is, I do make zombies, and I can steal souls if I need to." She crossed her arms, and her auburn hair slid to a glossy black. "Want to know something else? Byn-kodar is actually a degradation of the ancient language, as are the names of most gods. Ael-meseth, god of judges, has for a name a corruption of the phrase 'many oaths of trust', for example.

  "But the full name of Byn-kodar," Desidora continued as twisted thorny tendrils grew from the grass around the hem of her black robes, "is Byn-kodar'isti kuru'ur."

  "With sadness, we steal your life," Hessler translated. "But why 'we'? Or did I conjugate it improperly?"

  "The 'we'," Desidora said with a smile that did not warm her alabaster cheeks, "alludes to the fact that there is no death god. The power over souls, the power over the dead, is held jointly among all the gods, kept in reserve until they agree that some great danger justifies bringing that power into the world. Then one luckless priest or priestess loses her connection to the deity she once served, and becomes what I am, instead."

  Tern made a small noise.

  "At least they're honest," Desidora continued, and now her eyes were pits of black, and the grass shriveled and died from the palpable aura around her. "With sadness, we steal your life. Do you know what I did as a love priestess, Tern? I arranged marriages. I counseled bickering couples. I helped young lovers find each other. Now, I raise zombies."

  She shut her eyes for a long moment, biting her lower lip as some great struggle took place inside her.

  Then, slowly, the color returned to her hair and cheeks. And when she opened her eyes and spoke, it was her again, and not the thing she had been for a moment. "I'm not here for the money! I'm here because the gods told me that the fate of the world depends upon me!" Her voice broke. "I'm here because if I succeed, I might get to be a love priestess again."

  "Kun-kabynalti osu fuir'is," Ghylspwr said gently.

  "Shut up, Ghyl." Desidora wiped at her eyes and turned to Loch. "I'm in. We're in." Icy held out an arm, but she waved him off.

  Loch nodded. "I can't guarantee that the Glimmering Man will cross our path, but I'm grateful for your help for as long as you're with us."

  "When do we start?" Tern asked in a small voice. She was sort of hunched over, and the hair that swept down over her face accentuated the mousy look.

  Loch shut her eyes and allowed herself one quiet moment of victory. "Same time as before," she said. "We'll scout the palace until the ball to figure out how to get in."

  She looked around at all of them, some angry, some injured, all exhausted. "Thank you."

  "Don't thank us," Kail said in a shocked, horrified voice. "We're in this for the money, Captain."

  Kail hadn't been the best of her scouts, but he'd been the one who could always make her laugh. "My mistake," she said primly. "Let's find a place to hide for the next few nights."

  Orris drifted in a gray landscape, a place without pain or pleasure. He had forgotten how long he had been here. He could look around the gray landscape, but he could not move his feet. They were pinned to the shadow that lay on the ground behind him. The shadow had spikes on it. That had meant something to him, something important, when he first arrived. He thought.

  A shining man approached, a man who walked as though the sun were behind him, shining in all the color
s of the rainbow. Orris remembered.

  "No," he said.

  "I am sorry," said the shining man, but his voice sounded like laughter. "A deal is a deal, and you did not get Loch's soul to save your own."

  "Loch," said Orris. The name made him feel... something. "I... hate her, I think."

  "Probably," said the shining man equably. "That's impressive, to hold onto it. You might even have haunted her, had you not had other commitments." He reached down to the shadow on the ground and, without ceremony, plucked Orris's feet free from it. Then he began to wind Orris's body up as though he were rolling a sheet of paper into a tube.

  "No," Orris said again.

  "You mortals often say that you wish to see interesting things," said the shining man. "It is much more interesting where you are going. At least, it is more colorful."

  Orris was a little rolled-up ball, and the shining man held him, and because the shining man was just a silhouette with all the colors of the rainbow behind him, Orris was quite close before he realized that the shining man had opened his mouth.

  It turned out that the gray landscape was not entirely devoid of pain.

  Loch was in the kahva-house, looking for new insights in The Uncovering of Bounty in Inhospitable Climates, when Pyvic walked in.

  She looked up at him for a long moment. He did the same with her. People seemed unsure of exactly what was going on, but there was a lot of staring.

  When he became aware of it, he sat across from her. The crowd looked away. She raised an eyebrow.

  "You shouldn't have come here," he said. He looked tired. She knew she was.

  "It's the best kahva in town," she said. She'd stashed the sword, but had a knife up one sleeve. "I can't stay away just because things got complicated."

  "Complicated?" He chuckled. It didn't reach his eyes. "I could arrest you right here... Isafesira. Six of my men are dead."