Starwatch

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Starwatch Page 36

by Ian Blackport


  “A likely outcome, I admit. But hey, I almost died because of you. I’m hardly feeling magnanimous at the moment.”

  “We’ve had our differences, but you can’t do this.” The forger wriggled closer as though a battered worm. “You could never bring yourself to kill an old ally.”

  “Don’t presume to tell me what I’m capable of doing. And so we’re clear, I’m willing to kill anyone who threatens me and mine. You’ve recently scribbled yourself on the list of threats.”

  Thorkell yawned and scratched one earlobe. “This bores me. Can we shoot him and be done with it? I’m in the mood for a meal.”

  Cyriana eyed the pathetic figure crumpled in a dirt patch. “No, leave him. He can reflect on his life choices and discover if fate is inclined to the merciful today.”

  “Maylene, please,” Eloran begged. “We always conspired well together. Never any arguments between us.”

  She lifted a hand to her forehead and peered in his direction. “Wish I could help, but these damned squinty eyes of mine make it difficult to see where you are.” Maylene paused and cast a venomous stare at the man. “Oh, I also hate being around you. It’s a toss up in my mind whether I’d prefer you to die here alone or be found and returned to Talivin’s tender care.”

  “Why so glum, Eloran?” questioned Cyriana. “You might as well get used to killing time in a cemetery. You’ll be residing permanently in one soon enough.” She waved goodbye and blew him a kiss. “Have a lovely evening.”

  Shrill cries serenaded her ears as Cyriana strolled from the necropolis, sounding much like a forlorn puppy. It garnered no sympathy from her, though Maylene wore a lopsided grin.

  “You planning to notify the Draugans about the hogtied arsehole weeping in a cemetery?”

  “Haven’t decided one way or another,” Cyriana replied. “Though I like the idea of him stewing in there alone with corpses overnight.”

  “Naturally. Should I remind you I was against the whole idea of bringing Eloran onboard for this robbery?”

  “I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

  “Okay, guess I won’t.”

  “Kind of you. Where’s Zalla at? You leave her a short jaunt from here?”

  “Oh, shit.” Maylene halted and pivoted to face Eloran. “I left her with him. Didn’t trust the bastard not to turn tail and hobble off with our relic in hand. I thought she might be the wiser choice to guard our prize.”

  Cyriana limped back to the turncoat and stared down at him with fire in her eyes. “I will ask this question only once. Where is Zalla?”

  “She’s safe,” he responded. “Though she might be more than a little miffed at how I handled the situation.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I didn’t want to risk her safety, so I drugged Zalla and stuffed her in a closet before Noose’s lackeys arrived. The vacated room at hallway’s end in the Crane and Crock. I’d imagine she’s still there sleeping peacefully.”

  Cyriana squatted and grasped a wad of clothing in one hand, tugging the tethered man closer to her snarling visage. “If you’re lying to me, I’ll return and do far worse than leave you hitched in a graveyard. Though even that might pale compared to what Maylene will unleash in retribution for trusting you with Zalla.”

  “Believe what you will, but I’d never willingly hurt that girl. I never even intended to harm you or anyone else.”

  “Since your intentions haven’t counted for shit, don’t expect me to be comforted by platitudes. I know where to find you if these truths are once again jumbled.”

  Cyriana shoved him into a moaning ball and withdrew to where Maylene waited.

  “You believe him?”

  “I believe he has feelings for Zalla bordering on what regular humans experience,” answered Cyriana. “So yes, I think he was honest with me. Eloran certainly has nothing to gain from spouting more falsehoods. He may even hope seeing Zalla fine and chipper might change our tune enough to consider freeing him.”

  “Let him cling to the fantasy. It’ll be all the more crushing when we don’t come back.”

  “I’m with you on that.”

  “You know, I’ve been waiting for Eloran to get his comeuppance for years. Such a shame our victory was tainted by losing the codex.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” Cyriana offered a conspiratorial grin. “I emptied what remained in the vault at Vinaldor’s before our fake friends had a chance. Few days ago actually, before the Fete. It’s not the hundreds we were promised, granted. But I’ve got eleven gold coins tucked away someplace safe. A couple suns each is nothing to scoff at, I think.”

  “Long as we’re sharing secrets, I helped myself to some appealing things during my visit to Starwatch.”

  “After I said no other crimes while we were here?”

  “Don’t judge me,” Maylene said. “I have weak will power and can’t help but indulge my thieving nature. It’s who I am, and you accept me for it.”

  “Fair enough. What’d you get?”

  “Couple scrolls. Nothing obscenely valuable from what I can tell, but it’s a little something extra to split between us. There’s always a rich buyer wanting this old crap.”

  “Share your plunder with the others? Look at you, Maylene. Who knew you had such a compassionate streak hiding in there?”

  “Since you started recruiting honest blokes and turned them into crooks. Their niceness rubbed off on me. Makes me feel dirty.”

  “Empathy,” Cyriana groaned. “Does nothing for thieves but tangle our way of thinking. What a meddlesome sentiment.”

  *

  Harsh thumping resounded against a closet entry, shaking dust and particulates from the frame. Chipped paint flakes resided on the floor and Cyriana watched another green sliver break off, fluttering down to rest atop a cluttered pile. One sturdy chair was wedged beneath a copper doorknob, its rattling legs gouging scratches into floorboards.

  Amid walloping fists and boots came a shrill shout. “Open this door, you arsehole!”

  “You think she’s still in there?” inquired Thorkell.

  Cyriana pushed the man aside and marched toward the makeshift prison opposite a lone bed. “Zalla? Can you hear me?”

  The thrashing halted until only muffled breaths seeped through cracks. “Is that you, Cyriana?”

  “It’s me. I’m going to unblock the door, but only if you promise not to launch an attack on me. I’d imagine your blood has risen and don’t want to be the target of your animosity. One scar is quite enough from you.”

  “Deal. Now get me the hell out of here.”

  Cyriana grasped the chair and wrenched it free, scattering paint flecks like billowing leaves. Zalla lurched out, disheveled hair plastered to a flushed brow and clothing discolored by sweat. Eyes streaked in jagged crimson surveyed the chamber, seeking a focus for her brimming anger.

  “You look much the same as the day we first met,” Cyriana quipped.

  “I’ll kill him,” she hissed. “Do you have any idea what Eloran did to me?”

  “We’ve a fairly good understanding.”

  Zalla balled moist hands and clenched her jaw. “Where is he? I want to mash my fist into his self-righteous face. Maybe more than once.”

  Thorkell grinned and rubbed his chin. “We left him alone and hogtied in a cemetery with some corpse friends.”

  “And you aren’t untying him?”

  “No plans to at the moment,” responded Cyriana.

  “He’s in a foul mood?”

  “Far more than usual, yeah.”

  “Good. Leave him there.” Zalla strode back and forth, her steps eliciting faint squeaks from the floor. “I was sitting in our room, waiting for you to come back, when Eloran whacked me in the face with red-tailed mushrooms.”

  “Bastard stole my supplies, did he?” Maylene decried. “I should squirt swellfish down his miserable throat.”

  Zalla wagged a thumb toward the entryway. “Then he started dragging me into the hall before I passed out. My fri
gging head still aches from the trip. I woke up in the closet and exhausted myself banging ever since.”

  Cyriana placed a palm on the pacing girl’s shoulder. “You feel okay otherwise? No lingering pain or discomfort?”

  “I feel fine. Other than being a little dizzy and pissed.”

  “Can’t blame you for those sentiments,” observed Thorkell. “I wasn’t an unwilling test subject for fungal toxins and I’m still pissed about all this.”

  “What happened?” Zalla demanded of Cyriana. “I want to know what that snake did.”

  “Eloran arranged a clandestine tryst with Rope last night. While we conducted the heist, he offered to sell us out and lead those Shiylan pricks to our secret locale here. When Maylene and the others decided to safeguard my back instead, Rope’s agents met with him and pilfered our relic. Eloran apparently left as a willing volunteer. Wanted to deliver taunts and make sure I knew how he’d beaten me, I suspect.”

  Maylene eyed Zalla, her hands still poised over sheathed knives strapped to each hip. “Your presence meant he needed to improvise. With my damned property.”

  “But why?” Zalla questioned. “I don’t understand why he’d betray us after everything. You freed him. He owes you his life.”

  Cyriana brushed aside the thought with a hand wave. “I have no stomach for devising reasons to justify his choices. Eloran chose this path because he’s a conceited, selfish old man at heart. We’re the fools for not better understanding his motivations.”

  “I suppose.” Zalla breathed a calming sigh and leaned against the windowsill with arms crossed over a stained shirt. “I only wish I could’ve seen Eloran’s haughty face when you stole the codex back from him. Must’ve been a sweet sight.”

  “About that,” mumbled Cyriana. “Bad news, I’m afraid.”

  Chapter 20

  An easy lie will always be accepted over a difficult truth. Truths muddy our way of thinking and challenge perceptions; no one wants to willingly face such a revelation when ignorance tastes sweeter.

  Arild Arvassa, Praise and Woe

  114 Black Ruin, Year of the Waking Ordeal

  Aryll shifted worn boots on glossy marble flooring. Normally loose leather constricted her heels, or maybe the sensation stemmed from tension pervading this chamber. Sweat trickled from beneath red hair gathered into a lone braid and down her temples. She wanted to wipe moisture from her brow, but willed herself to remain unmoving. Aryll could not afford to cultivate a nervous mannerism, not while standing before the Governing Circle of Starwatch. The six senior galens within their entire order leveled impassionate gazes at her from beyond a crescent table.

  “Learner Aryll,” Chaereas said.

  “Yes, Headmaster?”

  “I trust you know why we have summoned you here.”

  “I do, Professor.”

  “Would you care to make a statement regarding the presumed guilt of Learner Kimiko?”

  “I don’t, no.”

  “You do not deny the allegations on her behalf?”

  “I see no reason to, Professor. I saw the truth of it firsthand, and I don’t want to knowingly lie.”

  “A noble declaration,” remarked Sharalla. “Assuming we choose to trust what you say at all. As Kimiko’s chamber mate, we cannot yet discount your own culpability.”

  “Indeed,” Karys added. “Was it not you who chose unilaterally to escort those dubious outsiders into the House of Wisdom alone?”

  “I didn’t make that choice,” Aryll affirmed. “I wanted to stay below and enjoy the Fete.”

  Chaereas stirred in his robes. “No one among us authorized you to ferry him into the tower.”

  “I beg your pardon, Professor,” she said, “but you did.”

  “I neither glimpsed nor spoke to you or Fendrel Ornaen that night.”

  “You didn’t need to. He gave me the letter you wrote him.”

  Chaereas leaned backward, tenting bony fingers atop his chest and scrunching his face in concentration. “I would envy his brilliance, were it not wrapped in such a maddening scheme.”

  Dranna cocked her head to one side. “Might you care to elaborate?”

  “I did write a letter to Fendrel last month, but the recipient was his presumably fictitious benefactor. In thanks for the generous donations to our library. That letter contained my signature and seal. Any competent forger could replicate my penmanship and have me spout whatever nonsense he chose.” Chaereas pinched the bridge of his nose and faced Aryll. “What did the document instruct you to do?”

  “Show the same hospitality to our guests as before and briefly catalogue the donations. You weren’t available to arrange any details personally. Or so I thought.”

  “Do you have the letter with you?” questioned Sharalla.

  “No, Professor,” Aryll responded. “Fendrel kept it.”

  “Then we still only have your word it even existed in the first place. This might be nothing more than a ruse to distract us from your own collusion in the burglary. One might say that rascal keeping the forgery is all too convenient, given you alone witnessed the parchment and can verify its existence.”

  Chaereas lifted a palm. “I believe her story, and this is the last we will accuse Learner Aryll of willing participation.”

  “You can’t—”

  “The matter is resolved.”

  “I concur,” Vanrir responded. Dark bruising extended over pallid skin beneath one eye, encircling white stitches where his cheek had split. “As you may recall, the point of this council was not to confirm or disprove her guilt, but to reach a decision regarding Learner Kimiko. A student who we know betrayed our trust beyond a credible doubt. Apparently some among us would rather use the time to accuse an innocent victim caught in the chicanery merely because she is within reach.”

  “She permitted that duplicitous woman to slink away on her own and access restricted records,” Karys rebuked. “I watched this flagrant breach take place and won’t pretend otherwise.”

  Aryll grimaced and wanted to hide from his venomous glower. She had allowed Blaer to disappear from sight on two separate occasions and cheerfully believed the reasons given. A stupid fault on her part that may have made the entire heist possible. If nothing else, Blaer’s familiarity with shelving procedures in the library should have triggered misgivings.

  “And you accepted her explanation at the time, Karys,” noted Chaereas. “Choosing to trust a person is not indicative of guilt. I also allowed Fendrel and his assistant into our tower, never suspecting the deception involved. We cannot blame one for the failings of many.”

  “Perhaps not,” Kadira conceded. “Though what we can do is determine the precise reason a heretofore diligent and honest student turned on this academy.”

  “Learner Aryll, would you care to shed light on this conundrum? Why did Kimiko give her loyalty to brigands?”

  “Money, Professor. This wasn’t something she wanted to happen, but she needed gold. She didn’t give her loyalty to anyone else, and I hope you believe me when I say that.”

  “Nonsense. Clan Akiyama is among the wealthiest merchants in Murayama.”

  “They still are,” confirmed Aryll. “But Kimiko’s family disowned her entirely. She was stripped of all connection to home and left on her own.”

  The expression etched on Vanrir’s face was one of sympathy. “What caused her loved ones to take such a drastic course of action?”

  “Starwatch policy. Once she was named a galen, her family expected Kimiko to come home and serve a feudal lord. Clan Akiyama wanted to use that to gain more prestige and curry favors.”

  Chaereas sighed and massaged his forehead. “I explained to her parents that newly elevated galens serve where Starwatch requires. They do not travel on a whim to further someone else’s agenda.”

  Aryll shrugged and immediately regretted the action as being too informal. “I think they hoped their daughter would have the final decision. But when she sided with you it drove a wedge between the family.
Her parents refused to cover expenses if someone else in another country would be the one who benefited. Without her clan’s support she had no way to pay tuition beyond the upcoming semester.”

  “Why didn’t she come to us with this information?”

  “Because we both figured you wouldn’t choose to make exceptions for any students. Kimiko wasn’t an adept in final year who could have her debt wiped away. She still had years ahead of her.”

  Dranna drummed ashen fingertips atop the table. “Her suspicions are correct. Despite Kimiko’s exemplary academic record, we could not forgive a student’s future debt entirely. The backlash for such favoritism would be swift. Particularly from students who remain indebted to us.”

  “Her only other alternative was to leave,” Aryll said, “but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Starwatch meant everything to Kimiko. She loved this place as much as anyone else here. And believed there’d be few consequences to a lone relic disappearing from the library.”

  “I thought you claimed not to be defending her.”

  “I’m not trying to justify her actions. I only want you to understand them in light of what she was going through.”

  “There were other options available to her beyond criminal behavior,” affirmed Sharalla. “She might have secured a patron willing to fund her education, for instance.”

  “And maybe we would’ve figured out a solution given time. But having her inheritance taken away was still fresh in Kimiko’s mind. I guess this chance seemed like a godsend, and she felt desperate enough to take it.”

  “There is another matter you might help us understand,” Chaereas said. “Considering your unwitting conscription. Are you familiar with Thran and Aeyir?”

  “Only by name. Every student heard how they cheated and were expelled.”

  “And what can you tell us regarding their role in the theft?”

  “I beg your pardon?” Aryll questioned.

  “Were they among the brigands’ inner circle? How involved was their role?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

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