Normally the Guardians wouldn’t get involved in such a case, but because he was one of the Queen’s Ministers it was standard practice. The Old Man had insisted on it to make sure no one was trying to rig the system.
“And?” asked Tammy.
“It seems fairly mundane.”
Tammy folded her arms and leaned forward across the desk. “What was the official cause of death? Have you spoken to the coroner? Or the wife? Or the children? How about his assistants in the Ministry?” With each question Yedda flinched as if he’d been stung. He probably thought this sort of case was beneath him, or perhaps he’d believed that the Old Man would choose him as Khevassar. “If you’re unable to investigate this case, I can give you something more suitable to your skills. I believe we’ve been asked to find a missing dog. It has three legs and one eye.”
Yedda ground his teeth and she raised one eyebrow, daring him to say something. Just one word. She could demote him to the Watch or give him all of the worst cases for the rest of his life if he continued to disrespect her position. Yedda knew this too and was slowly beginning to realise that he worked for her.
“I’ve spoken to several people in his office,” he said eventually in a strained voice. “And someone called Tovin seems the favourite to take over as Minister. I’ve asked for background on him, to make sure he wasn’t responsible.”
“The Queen will personally see your report on this case,” said Tammy, which caught Yedda’s attention. She decided to switch tactics and appeal to his vast ego instead. Yedda had deep familial roots in the city’s aristocracy and as such he was the epitome of entitlement. He probably spent as much time as she did at the palace attending the Queen’s functions alongside other wealthy families. As such he was constantly scrambling to impress the Queen for the benefit of his family.
The truth was that Morganse probably wouldn’t ask and would be happy with a verbal report about the Minister, but it had made him sit up straight. “I chose you because the Queen cares about her Ministers and I want it done right. But if you’d rather—”
“No, no. I’ll see to it immediately.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” he said, suddenly a lot more interested in the case than when he’d entered the room. “I should go. Thank you, Khevassar,” he said, rushing from her office. He was in such a hurry he left her door open and Rummpoe stuck her head around the frame.
“If he does that again, you’ve my permission to have him dragged to a cell,” said Tammy.
Rummpoe gave her a wry smile that turned vicious when she realised Tammy wasn’t joking. A short time later there was a knock on the door and another Guardian came into her office. She’d sent for him and judging by his expression he was puzzled about her request.
“You wanted to see me?” said Guardian Fray.
“Come in, Fray. Close the door.” Even though he’d been in the job a few years she still thought of him as new to the uniform. It came from spending so much time away from Perizzi. But Fray had been tested by the fire several times, in Voechenka before she went there, and since then here in the capital city. The scars of his trials showed in the furrows on his forehead. At some point he’d grown a beard and there were a few patches of white. “I need your help with something. It’s a little unusual.”
“Whatever you need, Khevassar,” he said. It still felt a little peculiar hearing people call her that. At the moment it still made her think of the Old Man.
“We’re investigating someone very dangerous. She’s a cult leader who holds enormous sway over her people. As a result they’re all closemouthed and getting any of them to talk is proving difficult.” She was skirting around some of the details, as he really didn’t need to know and it would only make things more complicated. She wondered how often the Old Man had done this before her. Parcelling out information on a need-to-know basis. Almost daily she had a new level of appreciation for what he’d achieved.
“Everything I know about this cult leader is second-hand. I need to find some answers for myself.”
“I can question the suspect if you want,” he offered.
“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” she said, taking a deep breath. “We can’t find any of her people, but I know where one of them is currently, and she’s not going anywhere.”
“Then why did you ask for me?” asked Fray.
“Because she’s dead. I need you to summon the spirit of Guardian Brook so I can interrogate her.”
CHAPTER 13
Vargus thought the meeting was never going to end. As ever, it could have finished in half the time but there was a lot of posturing, mostly from the youngest who were keen to prove their right to be at the table. Several were showing off in an attempt to appear wise. Perhaps they hoped to impress some of their elders and curry favour, but it was having the opposite effect. Nethun rolled his eyes more than once and Vargus turned his face away to hide a smirk.
Those at the far end of the table beside him, Nethun, the Blessed Mother, the Lady of Light, Winter and Summer said very little. Winter drummed her ice-blue fingernails on the table and the rest seemed equally bored.
They offered neither praise nor criticism to the speaker as either could be misinterpreted. As ever Elwei said nothing unless called upon but he was always watching and listening. More than once Vargus saw his head turn slightly to regard the empty chair at the far end of the long banqueting table. He’d also noticed Akosh’s absence.
At one point Elwei turned his head so that Vargus could just make out one eye regarding him from the depths of the old pilgrim’s headscarf. There was a slight shifting, a raised eyebrow perhaps but a question nonetheless, and Vargus just nodded. He’d noticed her absence too and was looking into it.
There was one figure at the table who most people were doing their best to ignore. Kai. He unsettled a lot of the youngest, and many others to be fair.
In this nowhere place, between moments in time, only the table and chairs were real. The rest was an illusion and it had not escaped Vargus’s notice that all of them chose to appear as human. Here, they were the best version of themselves, but even in the real world their human bodies were merely vessels for their true nature. Kai appeared as a handsome, blond-haired man with a warm smile and kind face. Out of them all his mask was the biggest lie. If Vargus focused on an individual he could look through the illusion and see their true nature, but there were some things he would prefer not to see again.
A relic from another time, when the mortal races had been more brutal and bloodthirsty, Kai represented an era most would rather forget. But he had endured, although most of their brethren had no idea how he had survived for this long. Vargus knew for certain there were no more temples devoted to the Watcher and the number of followers, who remained faithful Eaters, dwindled every year. Nevertheless, he was slowly building up his power again, within the rule thankfully, or so it seemed. Vargus was doing his best to keep an eye on Kai, just in case.
Normally generous and warm, Summer was starting to look annoyed at the waffling from the far end of the table. Even the Blessed Mother, the epitome of patience, was getting irritated.
“That’s enough,” said Nethun, cutting off one of the youngsters who was prattling on about the importance of cow’s milk and the sanctity of the land. The short, rotund man, who had something to do with cattle and farming, was about to protest when someone beside him yanked firmly on his arm. He took the hint and sat down, doing his best to hide his disappointment.
“Is there any important business to discuss?” asked Nethun, raking the far end of the table with a glare that few would meet. Those who had been planning to make a speech similar to their rotund friend suddenly changed their mind, shaking their heads. “Then we’re done,” said the sailor, dismissing everyone with a wave of his meaty hands.
Most vanished immediately, going back to whatever they had been doing before being summoned, but a few stayed behind to talk. Most of their kind didn’t meet in perso
n very often, and never more than two or three at a time. Everyone at the table was so different from one another that even a small group coming together would raise a few eyebrows and cause ripples they wanted to avoid. They had learned that mistake from their elders. Some of the earliest meetings had been in person and there were still mentions of them in a few history books that Vargus was waiting to fall out of print.
Further down the hall he saw Nethun speaking with a couple of the new faces, doing his best to appear genuinely interested. After a while the others began to disperse until only he and the old sailor remained.
“Finally,” huffed Nethun, moving to stand in front of one of the large fireplaces. “I thought they were never going to leave. I won’t be sad to see some of them disappear into the Void. They talk too much.”
“Well, no one could accuse you of that, old friend,” said Vargus, earning himself a brief grin.
“You said it was important.”
“You couldn’t come in person?”
Nethun shook his head. “No. I’m at sea.” As Lord of the Oceans and patron of all sailors, as well as the Vorga, Nethun spent at least two thirds of his time on the sea or under it.
“Did you notice who was absent?” asked Vargus.
“Akosh. I assume there’s a reason she ignored the summons?”
“Yes, there is. Given what I recently learned from Balfruss, her absence was expected.”
Nethun’s expression turned grim. “Tell me.”
“In part, she’s to blame for the fall of the Red Tower. Her people have been posing as Seekers, killing children, stirring up trouble and shifting all the blame to the mages,” said Vargus. He went on to tell Nethun about how she had been using her followers, seeded across the west, to foster greater fear and hatred of magic and those born with it.
The one rule passed down by the Maker was that their kind was not supposed to directly interfere in the affairs of mortals. They could not change the natural course of events, even if in doing so it would save many lives and avert a disaster. Despite their power and knowledge, it was not their place to right their wrongs.
On a few rare occasions they had bent the rule, but it was always done with the full knowledge of everyone and never by an individual working alone.
The Lord of Light, now all but forgotten by the mortals, had tried it. His attempt to grow his power base had led a large portion of the world into a pointless war where thousands of mortals had died. Akosh’s plan appeared more subtle and beyond causing chaos her goal was currently a mystery. But because of her actions the fear that had always been bubbling under against mages had come to the surface.
Whole communities had torn themselves apart searching for the perceived threat of a Seeker in their midst. On top of that children had been killed or driven out of their villages and anyone openly using magic was either shunned or attacked. Others had blown themselves up after being egged on by Akosh’s supporters, killing themselves and many others. Chaos might be all she wanted, in order to build her power for the future with more orphanages, but Vargus suspected there was something else as well.
“Does the Grey Council know it was Akosh? Do they know what she really is?”
“Balfruss does. He attempted to summon me,” said Vargus with a lopsided grin but it quickly faded as he thought about those who had died defending the Red Tower from the mob. “Do you remember Munroe?”
Nethun shook his head. “I don’t keep track of those who aren’t mine. They come and go so quickly, and in this age there are so many humans.”
“A few years ago she defeated the Flesh Mage in Perizzi. She also helped close the rift.”
“Ah. Her, I remember. Small woman, powerful mage. Swears like one of my sailors.”
“That’s the one. Her family was murdered when the Red Tower fell. She’s going after Akosh and wants revenge.”
Nethun sucked his teeth. “As much as I want to, and I suspect you do as well, we cannot get involved. It will play out how it must.”
“Sadly, I agree,” said Vargus, although he’d hoped Nethun might say something else. “But Akosh has broken the rule and must be dealt with.”
“Vargus, we’ve known each other for a long, long time. So, I know you wouldn’t have come to me with this unless you’d already taken steps.”
“I’ve tried to find her, but had no luck. I think she’s in Zecorria or Yerskania, but can’t be sure. So, I’m doing what I can to draw her out of hiding.”
“How?” asked Nethun, raising an eyebrow.
“Apparently, someone is about to persuade all of her orphanages in Rojenne and Perizzi to change patrons to the Maker or similar. The rest in Yerskania will follow suit after that. It won’t stop her right now, but it will create ripples and a problem for her in the future.”
“Thinking long term as ever,” said Nethun. “Do you think it will be enough to draw her out?”
Vargus shrugged. “If I start enough fires then eventually she’ll show up in person to try and put them out. Either that, or she’ll hide in one place surrounded by her own people.”
“What if she runs?”
“She won’t,” said Vargus. “She’s invested decades in her orphanages. She won’t just walk away from all of that now and try to start afresh.”
“What else?”
“The Guardians are looking into her network in Perizzi. Munroe is searching for her, and I suspect various foreign agents will be keen to disrupt her plans in the north. She has enemies all over and doesn’t realise it.”
“The noose tightens all around.” Nethun stared intently into the fireplace for a long time in silence. He seemed to be working up to saying something and finally asked, “Does He know what’s happening?”
“Who?” said Vargus, but the old sailor just gave him a look.
“Is He even aware?”
Vargus trusted Nethun with more of his secrets than any of the others, but he’d always wondered how much he already knew. It seemed as if Nethun was a lot better informed than he realised about the location of the Maker and what had happened to him. It was one of Vargus’s best kept secrets, or so he thought.
It was Vargus’s turn to play for time but eventually he answered. “No. He’s not aware. He’s not ready.”
“Then it still falls to us,” said Nethun. “You’ll take care of Akosh when you find her?”
“I will.”
“Good. I’d say the others will learn from this, but it wasn’t too long ago we were forced to deal with that idiot lantern boy.”
“Just like him, she won’t escape either. In a few years’ time, she too will be nothing more than a distant memory,” promised Vargus.
CHAPTER 14
Wren felt Tianne’s absence from the first day after she’d left the community.
It wasn’t just that she didn’t have someone besides Danoph to whom she could turn for assistance. Laila, who had arrived a few weeks ago, had mastered control of her magic but beyond that her skills were rudimentary. As such she was happy to take on extra work to make up for her lack of progress. Wren suspected part of the reason for Laila’s enthusiasm stemmed from her fear of magic, but with luck that would fade in time.
The biggest reason Wren missed Tianne was because she was her friend. She’d been kind and supportive since her first day at the Red Tower. It was Tianne who had met her at the gates and shown her around the school. At times it was difficult to believe that had only been a few months ago.
But there was another reason she missed her friend. Tianne was a gossip. Tianne couldn’t help it and thankfully she wasn’t malicious. She didn’t delight in revealing secrets to the wrong person in order to cause pain and suffering. It was just that she liked to know what was going on at all times in the life of every person around her. That detailed insight had proven valuable to Wren in running the community, but now it was gone. In turn this had forced her to try something new and uncomfortable.
Wren had to go out and talk to other people on purpose.
She was starting to get better at it. There were still some long and awkward silences, but gradually people were starting to open up to her. Tianne had made it look effortless, but it was new and difficult for Wren. Most often she found herself walking up to people only for her mind to go blank. Then she would lurk and try to think of something to say while they stared at her expectantly.
There was no easy way to start a conversation and she couldn’t just ask them about their problems with no preamble. In Drassia such conversations took place behind closed doors in private, but here it was different. People spoke about their problems openly and seemed to have no modesty. At times groups of people, women in particular, would sit around discussing very private and intimate subjects that made her want to leave the room in a hurry. There were some things she wanted to find out for herself. Not have them described to her in graphic detail by a gaggle of middle-aged women.
Nevertheless, Wren needed to know what people were struggling with in order to try and help them, but asking them outright was difficult and made her feel uneasy. At times she also thought it had more to do with expectation than reality. When people looked at her they saw first a Drassi which came with its own preconceptions, most of which were wrong. Recently Wren’s attempts at small talk, to ease into a conversation, began with her telling them a fact about Drassia. The reality often surprised them which she hoped was a good thing. At the very least it made it easy to then ask them about something more personal.
From her attempts at talking to people she’d found out that most of the community were happy and staying busy seemed to be key. Thankfully there was plenty of work to be done so no one was ever sitting around idle. Food was a constantly pressing concern, but with the old wood they were never short of raw material for building. Using an old technique she’d learned as a girl, Wren taught the others how to create charcoal which they were stockpiling for winter and to sell.
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