by Edward Cox
Ebril nodded, and Marney said, ‘Forgive me, Ambassador, but if your record keeper has been missing for so long, why didn’t you report it to the police?’
‘A fair question,’ Ebril sighed. ‘Ursa is an intelligent Aelf, but also sensitive. Our exile here was difficult for him to accept, and he frequently seeks escape by immersing himself in the seedier side of Labyrinth life so readily found along Green Glass Row. This is not the first time he has … taken the long way home.’
‘I see,’ Denton said. ‘His exile has made him bitter, angry perhaps?’
‘Sad is probably closer to the truth,’ Ebril replied. ‘I have always turned a blind eye to Ursa’s nocturnal activities simply because he is discreet, and whatever release he finds along Green Glass Row seems to do him good. He has never given me a reason not to trust his judgement.’
‘Really?’
The Ambassador sighed again and gave the approximation of an embarrassed smile. ‘In truth, I have often wondered if it was a matter of time before Ursa landed himself in trouble. Given that this house is being guarded by police, I am willing to guess he has bitten off more than he can chew this time. Trouble has followed him home, as it were? In the form of a wild demon?’
Denton’s expression suggested he was impressed by Ebril’s deductive skills. ‘That is a fair assessment, Ambassador.’
‘Ah. Then can I also safely guess that because two agents of Relic Guild have been sent to me, Ursa has also involved himself with characters of the treasure hunting persuasion?’
Denton’s tight smile gave affirmation.
Interesting and clever, he thought to Marney. To be so forthcoming with his suspicions, he is either honestly clueless to the situation, or he is trying to misdirect us.
To Ebril he said, ‘You know nothing of your record keeper’s movements for the past few days?’
‘Not a thing,’ Ebril assured him firmly. ‘So let us cut to the quick.’ He seemed disappointed. ‘Ursa is in some way responsible for the presence of this wild demon. He is being held at the Nightshade and the Resident requires my official approval for whatever punishment he is due?’
‘Not exactly, Ambassador.’
‘Oh? Then what, Master Denton?’
The old empath’s expression became sad, and even Marney couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not. ‘You are quite correct in most of your suspicions. Treasure hunters recently smuggled an artefact into the Labyrinth. Your records keeper was trying to purchase this artefact.’ He paused as if mustering his tact. ‘I regret to inform you that he was found dead at the scene of the transaction.’
For a room that was already emotionally cold, the temperature dropped palpably. Ebril shared a long look with Namji, and Marney felt a fleeting sense of surprise and fear coming from her. Was it genuine?
‘Dead?’ Ebril said to Denton
‘Killed by the demon hiding inside the artefact, yes,’ Denton assured him. ‘All that it left of Ursa was his skeleton.’
‘By the Timewatcher,’ Ebril whispered. ‘What manner of demon is this?’
‘Unfortunately, Ambassador, we are forbidden from revealing certain details at this time.’
‘Forbidden?’
Denton bobbed his head apologetically. ‘But I can tell you that Ursa’s identity was revealed to us by his business associate. A man called Llewellyn.’
‘Llewellyn?’ Ebril seemed angry. ‘The name means nothing to me.’
‘You are sure?’
‘Of course I am!’
The Ambassador glared across the table at Denton.
‘I-I know of him.’
All eyes turned to Namji. The young Aelf seemed embarrassed to have interrupted the moment, uncertain in her body language. But Marney noted her face didn’t appear quite so innocent now.
‘Llewellyn used to run messages between House Ambassadors and merchants,’ she said. ‘He and Ursa were friends, I believe –’ to which she was quick to add – ‘though I never spoke to him myself.’
‘Who he was makes no difference,’ Ebril said hotly, and he glared again at Denton. ‘I want to know what kind of artefact could contain a wild demon. I’ve never heard of such a thing.’
‘I have no wish to offend you, Ambassador,’ Denton said calmly. ‘But the Resident has tied my hands on this matter.’
The sudden emotional calm that settled on Ambassador Ebril frightened Marney with its gentleness. It was like still, glassy water, belying the dangers lurking in its depths.
‘What nonsense is this?’ His voice was a purr, his face a stony blank. ‘You say the Resident has tied your hands, but even empaths cannot hide glaring facts.’ His slow gaze moved to Marney and then back again. ‘I recognise propaganda when I see it – as you damn well know, Master Denton – and what I read in the newspaper this morning is nothing more than a smoke screen. It would be embarrassing to continue this game, so I ask you, gentleman to gentleman, what has Ursa really done?’
Get ready, Denton thought to Marney. This won’t go down well.
‘Ambassador,’ he said. ‘I have no wish to insult your intelligence any further, so I will tell you this – Ursa has …’ The old empath paused for effect and licked his lips. ‘Forgive me, Ambassador, but the nature of the artefact, and the demon it contained, indicate that Ursa harboured loyalties to Spiral.’
Marney would’ve staked her life that the shocked silence both Ebril and his daughter lapsed into was genuine.
‘Impossible,’ Ebril snapped. ‘The High Governor and the Aelfir of Mirage have ever been faithful to the Timewatcher.’
‘Faiths can change,’ Marney said before she could stop herself.
Ebril’s expression became stony again, but Namji recoiled as if slapped.
Nicely done, Marney, Denton thought. But don’t push it too far. You’ve put them on the back foot, but it could be a deceit.
‘Let me tell you of something, young one,’ Ebril said sternly, defensively. He pointed a gnarled finger at Marney. ‘I am Mirage’s longest serving Ambassador. High Governor Obanai and I are personal friends, and I can vouch that he and his people would never treat with Spiral.’
‘But we’re speaking of an individual, Ambassador, not a nation.’ Denton’s tone was resolute. ‘The evidence against Ursa is very convincing.’
‘Then show it to me,’ Ebril demanded.
Denton remained silent, and for a moment Marney thought the Ambassador might explode with fury. But instead he decided to settle on quiet simmering. Marney gave up trying to decide if it was a visceral or calculated reaction.
‘This accusation goes too far, Master Denton,’ Ebril said. ‘And I will not take the word of the Resident on it. Or yours.’
Again, Denton said nothing and matched the ambassador’s even glare.
‘What is your evidence?’ Ebril shouted.
Denton did not flinch.
‘Gentlemen …’
It was Namji who had spoken. She seemed uncertain, perhaps embarrassed that she had somehow overstepped her position by twice interrupting her father’s work. Her soft tone of voice and shy eyes had the effect of drawing Ebril’s attention away from his apparent anger. Even Denton seemed grateful for her interruption.
It made Marney trust her less.
‘Master Denton,’ Namji continued, her eyes downcast, ‘forgive me, but it is obvious to all present that in accusing Ursa of having loyalties to Spiral you are, by implication, raising doubts over the loyalties of House Mirage. Please understand that it has been two years since we last saw our homeland, and we have received very little news. Even so, it is most unlikely that Governor Obanai has switched his allegiance, and be assured that Ursa did not speak for those of us stranded in the Labyrinth with him. If he is as guilty as you say, that is.’
Throughout her dialogue, Namji’s manner had remained respectful, humble, almost timid,
but something in the way she had said the Governor of Mirage’s name didn’t sit right to Marney. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but it was almost as if the name was awkward for Namji to say.
Denton sighed. ‘Mistress Namji, Ambassador Ebril, make no mistake – the artefact was in every way connected to Spiral.’ His voice was leaden. ‘And Ursa was undoubtedly responsible for arranging its passage into the Labyrinth.’
Ebril, having exchanged a lengthy look with his daughter, rubbed his impressive beard as he turned to Denton. ‘Am I to take it the Thaumaturgists have been made aware of your findings?’
‘Naturally.’
Ebril leant across the table. ‘And the evidence is irrefutable, you say?’
‘Ambassador …’ Denton also leant forwards and brought their faces even closer. ‘You said earlier that we were not to be coy with each other. Perhaps now is the time for genuine candour?’
They continued to stare at each other for a long moment, their expressions intensifying. At first, Marney was bemused by their postures, but then, by the way Ebril’s old features twitched, it dawned on her that he and Denton were conversing mentally, and it was a conversation she was not to be a part of.
She realised Namji was staring at her.
‘Troubling times,’ the Aelf said, without exhibiting one inch of concern.
Marney nodded, disturbed by how naturally the Ambassador’s daughter had slipped back into the appearance of an innocent young girl.
‘You are not the first Relic Guild agent Master Denton has brought to see my father,’ she said lightly.
‘I’m sure I’m not,’ Marney replied evenly.
‘I observe all the meetings, you know – while hiding in the wings, as it were. There is no deceit in this, you understand. Watching and listening is part of my training. As it is yours, I suspect.’ Her smile was perfectly friendly. ‘I have to say, the other agents I’ve observed were never so open in their naivety as you, Mistress Marney. I really can’t tell if you’re being genuine or not.’
Marney frowned. ‘I’m just doing my job.’
‘Yes, as ordered by the Resident. It’s a shame, I think, that Gideon didn’t send Van Bam this time.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Van Bam. He is strong yet kind. His voice is like music to the ears.’
For a brief instant, Marney felt a wave of girlish desire coming from Namji, and she had to put a lid on her rising jealousy.
Her voice remaining soft and friendly, Namji added, ‘If he were here today, I would ask Van Bam to stay a while. I imagine he is such pleasant company.’
Marney stared at Namji’s innocent expression, not knowing what to say and do except quash the impulse to lean across the table and slap her young Aelfirian face. They remained staring at each other until Denton and Ebril broke off their mental conversation.
‘Thank you for your time, Ambassador,’ Denton said, groaning as he struggled to his feet. ‘I will speak with Gideon and do all I can to help you.’
‘As always, you have my gratitude, Master Denton. We will await the Resident’s word.’
With a nod to Marney, Denton indicated that it was time to leave. Marney rose from the cushions, scowled at Namji’s smile, gave a nod to Ebril, and then followed the old empath out of the room.
The servant was waiting to escort them out of the house.
Well, that was different, Denton thought as he and Marney made their way up the long driveway.
You’re telling me, Marney replied. What in the Timewatcher’s name just happened in there, Denton?
Something encouraging, if not mysterious. Ursa was most certainly not acting under Ebril’s orders. The Ambassador is genuinely clueless about the current situation in his homeland. In that, at least, Namji was telling the truth.
I really don’t like her. Marney couldn’t hide the anger in her thoughts.
I don’t think she likes you much either. Denton replied. Now hide yourself.
The two empaths emoted cloaks of concealment. Passing through the gates and the police detachment, they headed back up the street beneath glorious sunshine.
‘Ebril opened himself to me, Marney. It’s the first time I’ve ever known him to do it. So I decided to trust him. I told him the truth about the terracotta jar and Fabian Moor, and of the Icicle Forest. Ebril says he wants to help, but …’ Denton’s face was creased by thought. ‘Well, let’s just say I hope my trust is not misplaced. We need to talk to Gideon.’
The old empath led Marney over to an eye sitting atop a pedestal that was partially concealed by the shadows of a tree with boughs full of leaves. Taking a deep breath, he laid his hand on the head-sized sphere of milky fluid.
If a denizen touched an eye, it would connect them to the police headquarters building in the central district, where they would be able to report any emergency. However, if a magicker of the Relic Guild touched an eye, it connected them directly with the Nightshade.
Almost instantly, a projection of the Resident appeared before the two agents. His image fizzed. He ignored Marney and looked straight to Denton.
‘Well?’ he said abruptly. His voice crackled.
‘Ebril knows the truth,’ Denton replied. ‘He and the rest of his household are innocent, but he is convinced that Ursa could not have done this on his own.’
Gideon sneered cruelly. ‘He believes Mirage is controlled by the Genii? That Ursa was planted in the Labrys Town before the war began?’
‘Not exactly, but it’s complicated, Gideon,’ Denton raised his hands in a placating gesture, as if already sensing how the Resident would react to his next words. ‘Ebril has asked to speak to you in person.’
‘Why? If he’s useless to our inquiry now, then he can stay under house arrest until the war is over.’
‘Don’t be so quick,’ Denton said. ‘He told me that Mirage was having some internal conflicts before the war began. A delicate political situation, he called it. He wouldn’t tell me what exactly, but he’s convinced Ursa’s actions are connected. Ebril will reveal more, but only to you, and I think you should listen to him, Gideon.’
The Resident was quiet for a moment and his image fizzed again.
‘Then you had better invite the Ambassador to the Nightshade,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I’ll send my personal tram to collect you both. As for your pupil, I have an address for a surgery in the northern district. Send her to it. Angel needs her help.’
Deep in the southern district, amidst a two square mile landscape of storage warehouses, Van Bam sat upon a packing crate inside an old ore warehouse that most denizens believed to be disused and abandoned – if they even remembered it was there at all. Hamir had moved to this location a little before dawn. Van Bam had felt intrigued at first, fascinated, perhaps a little excited to act as Hamir’s apprentice. But now the illusionist felt imperially bored.
It wasn’t that Hamir was unpleasant company – though the necromancer could stand to use a few lessons on the art of conversation – but he needed no help. There was really nothing for Van Bam to do, except watch. Even then, there wasn’t much for him to see.
With his jacket removed and his shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows, Hamir sat cross-legged in the middle of the dusty warehouse floor. He had three items with him. One was a sackcloth bag, the contents of which he had not revealed. The other two were the gifts from Lady Amilee: a large and sealed metal box around four-feet square, and the thin leather-bound book in Hamir’s hands. His expression was perfectly focused as he read through the pages. It was as if he was altogether unaware of Van Bam’s presence.
To amuse himself, Van Bam had taken to casting illusions. He created a miniature of the horse he had once learnt to ride during a visit to an Aelfirian House. The beast was cast with as much detail as he could remember: a grey mare with black stockings, tail and mane. The illusion snorted and shook its head as it
ran on the floor before Van Bam, jumping over his green glass cane. He smiled as he watched it, recalling the exhilaration he had felt when man and beast had galloped across a landscape of open fields and freedom, the wind whipping at their faces. It seemed so long ago now. Would such a time ever come again? Would he and Marney ever get to travel the Aelfirian Houses together?
His thoughts lingering on his lover, Van Bam felt a pang of irritation. He so longed to spend some time with Marney, even just one private hour. He needed that to assure himself that she had adapted to her experiences with Lady Amilee. Instead, here he was, useless and bored, and all on the whim of the Resident.
It was pointless trying to question Gideon’s orders, or fathom his reasoning. He enjoyed keeping his agents on edge – seemed to revel most especially in needling Samuel – but why order Van Bam to help Hamir when he so clearly required none? There were any number of useful duties the illusionist could have been performing at this time. If there really was nothing for him to do, he could have seized the opportunity to be alone with … And there it was, the reason he’d been sent to this warehouse: Marney.
The illusion of the little horse shook its head and kicked out with its forelegs as Van Bam gritted his teeth.
Did Gideon know about him and Marney? Did he disapprove? Going out of his way to keep them apart was exactly the kind of tactic he would employ if that was the case. But was he doing it because he wanted them to understand that duty always came first, or did he plan to end their romantic involvement altogether?
The horse gave a shrill whinny and began running around wildly.
Hamir cleared his throat and Van Bam stared at him. The necromancer stared back with a raised eyebrow.
‘As pleasing to the eye as your illusions are,’ he said, ‘might I suggest some other activity to occupy your time? A book from the library, perhaps?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Your little horse, Van Bam. Beautiful, but very distracting.’
Van Bam gave Hamir a sour look. With a final whinny, the horse disappeared in a swirl of green mist. ‘Better?’
‘Ah, I have offended you.’