Starwatch

by Ian Blackport

  “The panic incited using fake plague victims was their doing,” Chaereas clarified.

  “I hadn’t heard. Truly I knew nothing about them. I was still in the tower when all that happened.”

  “We shall have to accept your affirmation of ignorance. Though there is one further thing you can do to earn some measure of redemption in our eyes. Tell us where to find the fugitive student.”

  “I won’t.”

  “No?” Dranna stuttered. “Do not speak to us of innocence while you flagrantly protect a traitor from reprisals.”

  “I’m sorry if I gave you that impression, Professor. The truth is I have no idea where she’s gone. Far from this city by now, I hope. The money she had left to cover next semester’s tuition is more than enough to get her across the Amaranthine if she wanted.”

  “Given your close relationship with her,” Kadira remarked, “perhaps you could humor us and offer educated guesses where Kimiko may find herself.”

  “So you can switch a couple guards from duty here and send them on a hunt? No thanks. Kimiko’s already lost everything she cares about. I won’t help you find her.”

  “You continue to wish her well?” Sharalla inquired. Scarcely veiled scorn slipped into her words.

  “She was my friend,” Aryll rebuked. “Nothing you say will change that. And I don’t want you forgetting that Kimiko forfeited her chance to stay here so she could save a life. It was a brave sacrifice. She gave up everything she loved for one of your guards.”

  Chaereas settled arms enveloped in robes atop the table. “Aryll’s reticence notwithstanding, any location she suggests is little more than conjecture. I won’t expend resources tracking a lonely former student who may never be found. A dozen caravans leave Arroyo each day; she could be on one now, traveling in any direction. And that does not even consider the possibilities to be found in the harbor.”

  “What if word of our uncharacteristic leniency reaches outsiders?” demanded Karys. “Or those who were expelled for lesser transgressions? The hostility and scorn we face would damage our reputation.”

  “Who will spread this gossip throughout the country? Her complicity is known to a select few. Does anyone here routinely make a habit of sharing sensitive details with ousted students and visitors?”

  Karys grumbled a negative to the Headmaster’s inquiry. Aryll caught sight of Vanrir smirking while the others affirmed they would never share information beyond these walls.

  “Then the matter is resolved,” Chaereas continued. “If the truth does slip through a crack, I suggest we claim guards are pursuing Kimiko’s trail. Give the impression we’re devoting considerable efforts to locating her.”

  “Lie,” Dranna snarled. “Fabricate a tale for the sake of protecting a student turned criminal. Our institution has fallen far.”

  “Starwatch has weathered considerably worse in its history,” Kadira riposted, waving one hand. “And none can disprove we aren’t pursuing leads to Kimiko’s whereabouts. I’m unconcerned what the plebeians think. They’ll continue to demand our services regardless of potential scandal. What do we care how their limited minds struggle to comprehend situations?”

  “We don’t,” concurred Vanrir. “Let them whisper in their ignorance. The nattering of illiterate peasants is irrelevant to us. We would be wise to disregard their opinions entirely and focus on our order to the exclusion of all else. That is our singular priority.”

  Chaereas nodded his agreement. “This session of the Governing Circle is at an end. Learner Aryll, we see no compelling reason to levy punishment upon you for actions committed. Though this incident is regrettable, and your choices perhaps preventable, accusations regarding your complicity are revoked. Hindsight is not enough to warrant more than a tame reprimand.”

  “Thank you, Professor.”

  Sharalla snorted her displeasure at the verdict. “And thus despite her decisions jeopardizing the sanctity of our collection, not to mention fellow galens’ lives, she is bestowed total clemency.”

  “She has suffered quite enough already,” Chaereas retorted. “Nothing more is necessary.”

  “Pray tell, what difficulties has the woebegone lass endured beyond our forgiveness?”

  “I lost my only friend,” Aryll answered.

  The Headmaster directed his gaze toward her, and unexpected compassion was written on his features. “A new chamber mate will be assigned to you in due time. You are hereby dismissed.”

  Aryll offered a polite bow to the Circle and pivoted, wanting to hunch her shoulders against frustrated glares boring into her back. She struggled not to smile in sight of the Starwatch Guards poised at the entrance. Though far from an accomplished liar, Aryll had somehow convinced the Circle to believe her account. Hopefully her words granted Kimiko enough time to disappear and begin a new life.

  Lacquered oaken doors closed behind her and Aryll walked through corridors to the stairs. If the senior galens doubted her story, they might instruct a guard to watch from the shadows for an indication of guilt. Sharalla or Karys may even do so without their colleagues’ approval or acquiescence. Aryll needed to be careful in the coming days to avoid incriminating herself. Kimiko’s belongings would be seized and either donated to a needy family in Arroyo or sent to her clan on Shodo Hai. Likely the former now that her disinheritance was known. Fortunately Aryll had already stashed her friend’s cherished possessions beyond reach. A shame she might not have a chance to give those keepsakes to Kimiko before she needed to leave the city. Not if even one galen chose to spy on her.

  Aryll reached ancient stone steps and descended toward her empty room, praying Kimiko was safe.

  *

  Chaereas shifted in his chair to face those seated alongside him. “Perhaps not an enlightening dialogue in the manner we initially hoped.”

  “Do you believe her?” questioned Kadira. “That she is ignorant regarding Kimiko’s whereabouts.”

  “Perhaps. I’m not certain it matters however. A young student Kimiko’s age is likely terrified and unable to think logically. I have a feeling she sailed on the first ship that departed earlier this morning. The destination would be irrelevant to someone of her mindset so long as it brought her away from Arroyo and our reach. We have no more accurate measure of deducing her whereabouts than standing in the harbor and picking a direction.”

  “Then you were truthful to Learner Aryll,” remarked Sharalla. “You mean not to follow.”

  “It would do us little good to apprehend a fleeing child whose life is already in shambles,” Chaereas responded. “Kimiko has neither prospects nor a home. Let us at least grant her peace of mind.”

  “Do we have a consensus regarding Thran and Aeyir?” queried Vanrir.

  Karys snorted a derisive cackle. “Those buffoons are not clever enough to hatch and coordinate a heist this intricate.”

  “They’re more intelligent than one might believe,” countered Dranna. “The issue is one of lethargy. They were too indolent to adequately prepare even for examinations, and it is for the same reason that I don’t believe they fulfilled a grander role than fomenting terror.”

  Chaereas nodded in agreement. “I suspect they were merely tools meant to be discarded once the task concluded. Whoever orchestrated this brazen theft must have also recruited the pair after learning of their animosity toward us. In Thran and Aeyir they would have discovered keen participants.”

  Sharalla tapped a dark finger against her jaw. “What have we learned from them thus far?”

  “No questions have been asked yet. They’ve spent all night alone and isolated in separate cells. Let their fright develop and conjure unpleasant scenarios. I’m told they’ll be more willing to share details once fear has taken hold.”

  “Do you anticipate them to be cooperative after mistreatment?”

  “I’ll have Captain Graycloak conduct the interrogation himself,” Chaereas declared. “Almar has a persuasive manner when he wishes.”

  “Their respective families a
re influential,” noted Kadira. “What do we claim if word reaches their parents’ ears that we’re holding them here?”

  “They were injured during the unfortunate stampede. As former students, we thought it best to tend to their wounds ourselves. We’ll assure concerned parties that Thran and Aeyir will be released once their bones have mended and we feel travel is permissible.”

  “Plausible enough reasoning. Rumors swirl that some guards were a tad overzealous in apprehending the twosome. Perhaps they’ll have no need to fake injuries.”

  Vanrir grinned, stretching a purple bruise marring his flesh. “If nothing else, the seizure was a just response to their crime. We’re fortunate no one was killed during the frenzied pandemonium through our gates. I would not hold grudges against any guards who went beyond acceptable limits of violence.”

  “Have we ascertained the damage wrought by fire in our library?” questioned Dranna.

  “Disheartening, to say the least,” Chaereas responded.

  Karys smashed a balled fist against the table. “It’s a damned disgrace, is what it is! No less than three hundred irreplaceable scrolls and tomes lost.”

  “Would you care to lay this tragedy at Learner Aryll’s feet along with the others?” asked Vanrir. “You’ll need to find a productive outlet for that bristling anger. I’m also told many of those lost artifacts have been copied in past years. Replicas which survived unsinged.”

  “The destruction of these originals is an unmitigated tragedy.”

  “A little less melodrama, please. Value stems from the information contained within, not the paper upon which it is written. We haven’t lost much knowledge, and that is the only concern to my mind.”

  Sharalla leaned forward on her elbows until a disapproving scowl obstructed the feuding galens from glimpsing one another. “Cease this asinine bickering. There is only one query I desire to have answered. Could the larceny we suffered have been prevented? Did Captain Graycloak uncover no evidence forewarning us of this theft?”

  Chaereas breathed a sufficiently morose and repentant sigh. “I’m afraid not. He anticipated the usual pickpockets and petty delinquents. Not cunning criminals. The Captain has graciously accepted full responsibility for failing to prevent this.”

  “He should not shoulder all the blame,” asserted Kadira. “I suspect damage from the fire could have been worse if not for the additional guards he convinced us to permit. They may not have apprehended the culprits, but several were instrumental in foiling a potential catastrophe.”

  “Likely a result of practice gained from snuffing the scullery fire several days previous,” Dranna declared. “Are we certain these conflagrations were isolated incidents? One is forgiven for succumbing to suspicion following separate blazes mere days apart.”

  “And you’d be correct to voice misgivings,” Chaereas conceded. “A guard discovered footprints in soot blanketing that chamber, emerging from the disposal chute. We believe someone navigated the sewers beneath and climbed into the scullery.”

  “By that logic one must also assume the inferno was no regrettable accident. It forced us to leave the room abandoned.”

  “Indeed it did. And by doing so, we offered an unguarded entrance.”

  Vanrir raised a hand to his forehead, massaging the furrowed skin. “What manner of criminals were these? I’d not have attributed such brilliance to felons. Do we think several are former students educated here? It certainly explains the cunning and organization. I fail to believe common delinquents could outwit our finest minds.”

  “That is what troubles me,” admitted Chaereas. “At this point we simply do not know. Unless Thran and Aeyir are obliged to share useful revelations, we might never learn the truth. Their motivations and training may forever remain a mystery.”

  Dranna clasped both hands together atop a wooden surface and cleared her throat. “I anticipate this will not be a popular decision, but should we at least consider canceling the festival? We invite thievery by welcoming the downtrodden onto our grounds.”

  “We cannot,” responded Kadira. “For many citizens, the annual event is crucial to earning their goodwill. I daresay suffering crime is a worthwhile cost in order for us to curry favor.” She shifted her eyes toward Chaereas. “We can afford to lose the occasional artifact, but we cannot suffer a fatal blow to our reputation.”

  “I happen to agree. We must not allow one incident to dictate our policies. The Eclipsing Radiance Fete will be celebrated next year in all its grandeur. We’ll use the interim to devise more imposing safeguards against another brazen burglary.” Chaereas planted weary palms on the crescent table and stood, feeling far older than his fifty-three years. A weight had descended upon his shoulders, one he found himself unable to shrug off. “If there are no further issues, I’d like to call an end to our session. I’m afraid I did not sleep well last night and wish to retire for a rest.”

  “Certainly,” Sharalla said. “We can reconvene tomorrow. Perhaps Captain Graycloak will have brought us pertinent information by then.”

  “I’ll be certain to keep you all apprised of the situation as we learn more.” Chaereas bid farewell to his colleagues and departed the chamber.

  Though no bard shared the tale and no scribe penned fell deeds, Starwatch possessed a history darker than many cared to admit. Long before Ironcleft was erected, thieves and murderers were imprisoned beneath Starwatch. Many beheld their final days in the darkened bowels of an academy for higher learning. Officially the chambers once housing ancient convicts were inaccessible today, surrounded by thick stone. Chaereas discovered these forgotten and abandoned places several years earlier however, deciding they might serve as the ideal location for conducting his prohibited studies.

  He soon reached a forgotten doorway hidden beyond one passage carved through stone. Coated with dirt and looking to be in disrepair, the door seemed neglected and therefore unused. All a cautious construct to deflect prying eyes from suspecting the chamber beyond held anything of worth, should someone accidentally stumble upon its location.

  Almar leaned against one stone wall opposite a bracketed torch, his gaze idly tracking a cockroach scampering over rubble. “This is my fault.”

  “There is little sense in thrusting blame on yourself,” Chaereas affirmed. “I didn’t want to believe the ravings of our orphan cutpurse either.”

  “When I first acquired him from Ironcleft, Ducaen Tuduras revealed that Desin was caught holding exemption papers. A brief investigation proved them to be masterful forgeries.”

  Chaereas narrowed his eyes. “Forgeries, you say.”

  “This was prior to his confession of working with professional criminals. I had no reason to suspect a grander scheme was at play. Following our incarceration of him, this information slipped my mind. I had more crucial details to worry about than what a street felon carried in his pocket.”

  “Yet if I understand the significance of all this, you now believe one of his accomplices was a forger.”

  “Responsible for Kalyna’s fictitious recommendations and the letter to Fendrel Ornaen written in your hand, yes. The connection to Desin did not dawn on me until only after the robbery. If I’d recalled this information sooner, I might not have been caught unprepared. I would certainly have apprehended Fendrel when given the chance.”

  “Though regrettable, the mistake is done. Dwelling on what might have been with the benefit of hindsight achieves nothing.”

  “Regardless, I wanted you to know the fault lies only with me.”

  “Question Thran and Aeyir,” Chaereas instructed. “Discover what they know and report directly to me before anyone else. We can decide afterward if the truth needs massaging before sharing with others.”

  “Consider it done.”

  “One further addendum, Captain.” Chaereas waited for the other man to glance back. “Endeavor to perform your duties more adequately in the future.”

  Almar nodded his understanding and strode from sight into the darkened co
rridor. Once alone, Chaereas removed a key from one pocket stitched into his robe and unlocked the door. Before stepping inside he bent to scoop dirt from the floor and scattered particles over the lock, veiling hints of his presence.

  Torchlight glowed outward from Chaereas as he approached rusted bars, illuminating a solitary figure curled on the soiled floor. Desin blinked eyes that had known only blackness in recent days and scrambled backward into a corner.

  “We failed to detain your accomplices last night,” Chaereas said. “It seemed their tactics varied considerably from what you informed us. One might even surmise you deliberately lied and misled me.”

  Desin shook his head, though the motion may have merely been a nervous tick developed during his residency. “I didn’t! What I said was true.”

  “Here’s what I believe. You never meant to be caught by us. The pickpocketing attempt that led you here was due to a fundamental moral failing on your part. After languishing in my care, you made the decision to reveal your friends’ theft, yet bent the truth enough to guarantee they avoided capture. Your story was plausible and enticed my interest without betraying those you hold dear. I can only assume you hoped to negotiate your release in the confusion, after convincing me the information was more valuable than you.”

  “No! I told you everything I knew.”

  “And yet you conspicuously refrained from informing me of certain crucial elements we might otherwise have prepared for. You mentioned nothing of Fendrel Ornaen and his role.”

  “Who? I don’t know any Fendrel. I swear—”

  “Nor did you bother to reveal the existence of a mysterious and miraculous substance capable of melting through stone. One might have anticipated eager compliance on your part regarding that.”

  Tears pooled within Desin’s swollen eyes. “Please, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I’ll admit I allowed myself to have high hopes for you, against my better judgment. But you have proven yourself to be an unreliable informant. I no longer believe your words.”

  “I told you the truth!” Desin shrieked. Bruised, naked legs sprang him closer on hands and knees until his face brushed iron. A pleading visage gazed at Chaereas from the floor, since he did not possess the strength to climb upright. “I told you…”