The Imposters of Aventil

by Marshall Ryan Maresca

  “Come on, skirt,” he was saying. “We saw you watching us, we know what you—”

  “Let’s not finish that thought,” Veranix said, stepping in next to Kaiana. “She told you to be about your business.”

  The middle one scoffed. “Get the depths out of our way before we make you our business.”

  “You tried once, let’s not bother again.”

  “Oh, the rabbit,” the one on the left said. “You gonna jump around on us again?”

  “I’m no rabbit,” Veranix said sharply. He wasn’t going to accept that particular epithet, not ever.

  “That jumping might save your skin, but not the skirt’s,” the middle one said. “You want to play hero, you might have to actually fight us.”

  “If that’s what it’s got to be,” Veranix said.

  “Still, three of us, and you’re mighty short. Do the math.”

  Veranix didn’t have any urge to play around with these boys. With a rush of numina, he surrounded his head and fists in bright blue flame. “Mage. Do the math.”

  They all stumbled back, and while the middle one looked like he still wanted to give a fight, the other two pulled him away. As they retreated, Veranix turned off the flame and turned to Kaiana.

  “You all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she said hotly. “I didn’t need you coming to make a spectacle.”

  “I wasn’t making a spectacle,” Veranix said.

  She just glared at him. A glare that said he had screwed up.

  “I thought you were in trouble,” he said meekly.

  “I can handle it. Why don’t you worry about Emilia or whatever her name was?”

  Veranix almost choked, Kaiana’s venom shocking words out of his throat for a moment.

  “She’s dead, that’s why,” he said.

  Kaiana looked abashed for a moment. “Right. Sorry.”

  “How could you—”

  “Sorry!”

  “I was just coming to help you—”

  “Well, you finally were paying attention for once—”

  “What the blazes is that supposed to mean?”

  She shoved a bag that she was carrying—he hadn’t even noticed before—into his hands, opening it up. It was filled with empty effitte vials. “That’s what it means. We didn’t stop a blasted thing.”

  “Where did you find these?”

  “All over campus, Vee. Especially here at the tetchball pitch. I was finding more now, and saw those boys from Pirrell acting suspicious—”

  “Were they using?”

  “Do you even care?”

  That hit him in the heart like ice. He handed the bag back to her. “I don’t know how you could even ask that. I nearly died last night facing Fenmere’s goons.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said coldly. “It just seems like this on campus hasn’t been your priority.”

  “You’ll forgive me that I’ve had a few things pulling at my attention.”

  “I can bet,” she muttered.

  Veranix let that drop. With everything swirling in his skull, the last thing he needed was to fight more with Kai. “I’ve got to deal with these imposters,” he said. “And the effitte.”

  “How?” It was almost a threat the way she spat it at him.

  “The vials have mostly been around the pitch?”

  She nodded.

  “Then I’ll stick to the tetch squad again tonight.” He sighed hard.

  “Is it that bad?” she asked, and he couldn’t tell if she was being sympathetic or not.

  “I’m going to stay out of the cups, no matter what they’re doing.”

  “Finally, some wisdom,” she said.

  She turned to walk off, and Veranix almost reached out to her. She pulled her arm away, as if she sensed he was going to do that.

  The crowd cheered. The top of the interval was over, and the U of M boys were about to take the field. If they held the lead, sticking with them through the night meant a victory crawl.

  Veranix almost wished for another fight with Fenmere’s men.

  He glanced back in Kai’s direction, where something else grabbed his attention. Walking along the south lawn, toward Bolingwood Tower, were two women in Constabulary uniforms. One of them, with her red hair and inspector’s vest, he immediately recognized as Welling’s partner, Inspector Rainey.

  She was going to talk to Professor Alimen.

  Veranix couldn’t imagine anything good would come from that.

  “You were a Uni gal, right, Tricky?” Corrie asked as she led Satrine toward the professor’s office, which appeared to be in an actual tower isolated away from the rest of the buildings. A magic professor in a tower. Satrine thought it was like something out of the old storybooks. Sergeant Tripper walked a few paces behind them, keeping whatever thoughts he had to himself.

  “Most definitely not,” Satrine said.

  “Yet you’re all refined and educated,” Corrie said. “How’d you rutting manage that?”

  “Painfully,” Satrine said. That was the easiest honest answer she could give.

  “So tell me this, Trick,” Corrie said. “I ain’t never known Minox to take a pass on questioning someone. So why the blazes are you and I here without him?”

  “You did note that the Professor Alimen was a mage, yes?”

  “Yeah, and?”

  “You haven’t noticed that mages don’t like your brother?”

  “Yeah, but he doesn’t give a toss about that sewage.”

  “This mage professor nearly threw a fit in the street just looking at Minox.”

  “And rutting Circle law kept you from just ironing him there.”

  “That and not having a real charge,” Satrine said.

  They heard someone huffing and puffing as footsteps came crashing up to them. Jace, running at full tilt across the campus lawn.

  “Slow the blazes down, Jace,” Corrie admonished him.

  “You didn’t notice when I blew a call, or shouted,” he said. “I had to catch up.”

  “Didn’t hear you,” Satrine said. “What’s the call?”

  “Minox, er—Inspector Welling—” Satrine noticed Sergeant Tripper giving Jace a glare. “He said that the girl who was killed at the Tower was a student participating in the games here named Emilia Quope. And get this—she was dressed all in leather, with a mask.”

  “More of these crazies,” Tripper said. “Just what we need.”

  “We only were able to get a name because someone recognized her from the charcoal sketch. She’s competing in the games. She was winning whatever competition she was in.”

  Satrine nodded. “So we should start looking into her.”

  “Why we need to do that?” Tripper asked.

  “Because that girl was killed by either the Thorn or someone pretending to be the Thorn,” Satrine said. “You couldn’t figure that out?”

  “So whoever it was might tie to the Left’s attack. Fine.” He sighed. “I ain’t got no questions for this professor or nothing, so why don’t I head over to student administration and start getting us a couple steps ahead for this girl, and see what’s what?”

  “Excellent plan,” Satrine said. “Keep Jace with you.”

  “Right,” he said. “Come on, kid.”

  “You were anxious to get rid of him, weren’t you?” Corrie asked as soon as they were out of earshot.

  Satrine started walking toward the tower. “I get it, this special squad of Benvin’s—the one Jace is on. They’re clearly the only ones in Aventil who give a blaze about enforcing the law in this neighborhood.”

  “But something still sits in your rutting teeth, hmm?”

  Corrie wasn’t half as dumb as she pretended to be. “They’ve got the drive, but not the vision. Tripper there wants someone in Quarry for Be
nvin, and I really don’t think he cares who. If he could use it to drag in all the gang kids, he would. Jace ever talk about Benvin at home?”

  “Only like a rutting schoolgirl. ‘The lieutenant said this.’ ‘The lieutenant told me that.’”

  “I just wonder if Tripper’s the same way. I think the squad is foundering without the lieutenant to hold the reins.”

  They reached the tower, and the door opened before they had a chance to, though Satrine was surprised to see a familiar figure emerge.

  “Major,” she said to her old friend from Druth Intelligence. “What are you doing here?”

  Altom Dresser, retired major in Druth Intelligence and mage in the Red Wolf Circle, looked a bit put out, as if he had been caught in the midst of something embarrassing. Strangest of all, he was actually wearing the gray Druth Intelligence uniform, something that was almost never worn. He still greeted her back with warm regard.

  “I could ask you the same,” he said as he took her in a quick embrace. “You aren’t trying to investigate the professor or something?”

  “No, one of his students was a witness to an attack. Professor Alimen didn’t want us asking any questions without his supervision.”

  “Hmmm,” Major Dresser said, nodding absently.

  “Were you pulled out of retirement?”

  “Hmm, what?” he asked. He looked down at his uniform. “Oh, yes. Well, there’s never really retirement for us, hmm? Needed to look official just now, is all.”

  This raised several questions in Satrine’s mind that she was certain Major Dresser would not answer. Especially with Corrie Welling—or anyone else—a few feet away. And she was curious about the answers to those questions, but she also knew they bore minimal connection to the case, or anything else in her life. There was no need to prolong things with Major Dresser out of her idle curiosity.

  “It all worked out well, then?” she asked.

  “Fine, yes. I really must be—”

  “Of course, yes, I wouldn’t want to keep you.”

  They gave perfunctory good-byes, while Dresser gave her a small signal with a scratch of his nose and ear. Much to her annoyance, Satrine couldn’t remember exactly what that signal meant. She knew it, generally, was a warning to be cautious, but there was a nuance to it that she had forgotten.

  Be cautious with Professor Alimen? She had already presumed that.

  “What the rutting blazes was all that?” Corrie asked once the major had walked away.

  “I’m not entirely sure.”

  “That ain’t an army uniform, Tricky.”

  “I know what kind of uniform it is. Let’s go on.”

  They had just gotten inside the tower when Professor Alimen confronted them on the staircase, his face hard. Delmin Sarren stood a few feet behind him.

  “What in the name of the saints was that, Inspector?” he asked coldly, every syllable punctuated.

  “What was what?”

  “I saw you out there with Major Dresser.” That was an accusation.

  “Just saying hello, Professor. Nothing—”

  “So you do know him!” he said. “Who are you? What is all this?”

  “Professor—” Sarren started, but the professor cut him off. The poor kid looked like he had no idea what was happening.

  “Tell me, Inspector Rainey. You know Dresser. You have an Uncircled mage working in the Constabulary, your partner, and he—”

  “Best watch your tongue—” Corrie started. Satrine grabbed her wrist before she went too far.

  “What are you trying to do?” Alimen asked. “Are you part of the Altarn Initiative? Is that what his hand is about?”

  Satrine was definitely confused by that. “I’m only here about the attack on Lieutenant Benvin—”

  “No, no, I’ll none of it,” Alimen said. “I’ll not be bullied or tricked by you.”

  Satrine held up her hands, trying to show a sign of calm. “Professor, I think there is a misunderstanding here—”

  “Yes, I know it now,” Alimen said. “We are done, Inspector. You have no further questions for my student. Or business on this campus without the proper writs.”

  He marched back up the stairs, and as he did, the door behind Satrine flew open.

  “That’s our rutting cue to walk out,” Corrie said.

  “Most definitely,” Satrine said, and did exactly that.

  “Just so we’re clear,” Corrie said, “I’ve no blasted clue what the blazes just happened.”

  “You’re not the only one,” Satrine said. Unfortunately, whatever was going on between Major Dresser and Professor Alimen would have to go into her own Unresolved file. Dealing with that wouldn’t get her any closer to solving this case and getting out of Aventil.

  Chapter 16

  A THICK, meaty hand was on the back of Veranix’s neck. “What are you just standing there for, Calbert? Let’s get inside.”

  Hoovie and Chippit, the Right and Left Foots of the tetchball squad, flanked Veranix outside the Turnabout. Much of the rest of the squad were already heading inside, charged off their fourteen-to-twelve win over the High Academy of Korifina. They were now one of the four teams in the final rounds. The day after tomorrow, they would play whoever won in Pirrell versus Cape Institute.

  So tonight they were on another victory crawl, and Veranix followed along. Not because he cared about celebrating—at this point he didn’t give a blazes what happened on the tetchball field—but because going back to Jiarna’s social strategy was the only way he could think of to keep a finger on the effitte problem on campus.

  That one finger was all he could spare. Between the effitte, the two imposters, and an Uncircled mage inspector, he couldn’t juggle anything else. He certainly couldn’t just go hunting as the Thorn right now. He didn’t have any idea how to handle any of it, other than being out with the squad, ready to take action if something sprang up. So with the tetch squad he went.

  He didn’t know they’d be heading into the Turnabout, though.

  “I’ve heard some things about this place—” he started.

  “Yeah, it’s a gang hangout,” Hoovie said. “But they’ll let us in.”

  “You read those blasted pamphlets?” Chippit asked.

  “Crazy,” Hoovie said. “It ain’t nothing. These gang kids wouldn’t hurt us.”

  “Not all of us.” Catfish, the Far Bumper, said coming up from behind them. “What the blazes are you prattles waiting for?”

  “Vee has stuck feet,” Chippit said.

  “Well, unstick them.” Catfish tried to give Veranix a playful shove, but Veranix jumped ahead before Catfish properly put hands on him. If he had touched him, he would have felt Veranix hiding his bow and quiver under the napranium cloak. Except for his staff, Veranix was ready to be the Thorn in a moment, all masked under an illusion held up by the cloak.

  “All right, all right, I’m going,” he said. “If this is where you all want.” He went in, keeping himself behind the squad members who had already gone in.

  This wasn’t the first time Veranix had been in the Turnabout, but it was the first time while wearing his own face. Of course, he was masking the bruises, and even with the cloak and rope on, it was a challenge to hold that on top of the rest of his masking.

  He had considered and rejected the idea of changing his face to look slightly less like himself. It would probably confuse the tetch squad, but he definitely wouldn’t be able to keep it consistent. He’d make a mistake, and he couldn’t afford that.

  There had been too many already.

  “You boys in the right place?” someone asked.

  Tosler was at the front of the group. “We’ve got coin for beers and strikers, so I think so!”

  Veranix noted the bartender giving a look to an old man in the corner, who gave a nod of approval.

  “W
hat’ll it be?” the bartender asked.

  Tosler threw some coins down on the counter and started rattling an order off, while other boys on the squad went to claim a table. At a gesture from the old man, a handful of Princes cleared away from one of them. It seemed the Princes wanted to avoid trouble, and that suited Veranix just fine.

  Veranix moved over to the table with the other boys, making sure to keep someone between him and the old man in the corner. Whoever that was, he was the most likely to have known Veranix’s father, and make a connection.

  “Oy.” Before he realized it, a woman was right in his face. Prince with captain stars tattooed on her arm. “Let’s make something clear.”

  “All right,” Veranix said, keeping his head down a bit. No eye contact. “We’re just here to celebrate the win is all.”

  “Celebration is good. Just don’t get too many ideas about making this a place you come on the usual.”

  “Fine,” Veranix said. He glanced up, noting that she was still staring hard at him. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because you look like the one who has half a lick of sense in this crew. Keep your boys in line.”

  “I’ll do what I can.”

  The squad had all sat down and Tosler had brought over beers for all. “Gentlemen, gentlemen,” he said. “This one was hard won, they gave us what for . . .”

  “Hey, let Vee do it,” Ottie said.

  “Me do what?”

  “Give the salute!” Needle said.

  “He does it best!” Ottie said.

  “They’re right on that score,” Tosler said. “Beers up, gents!”

  “No, I don’t think I should—”

  “Vee! Vee! Vee!” they all chanted. Far too many Prince eyes were looking his way.

  “All right, all right, hush,” he said, raising his beer. “Today you all—you . . . Today you had a fight out there. Those Korifina boys played good and hard and you did not let them earn a single point easily. At one point one of them crawled over the Double Jack with three of you hanging on him.”