“We were able to verify that all the holdings stored in the Treasury were genuine and properly recorded. However, some of the coins held in the vault were found to be forgeries,” Reardon said.
Not the same thing at all.
“I don’t understand the difference, sir,” Thea said, frowning. “The coins aren’t part of the Treasury’s holdings?”
“No,” the Treasurer said, his impatience clear. “We keep some coins on hand for day-to-day spending.”
“I see. So, the spending coins are kept separately from the rest of the Treasury’s holdings? And the forgeries were found among the spending coins, and not the coins stored in the Treasury?” Thea asked.
“That’s correct,” Reardon said, with a sideways glance to the Treasurer.
“It seems to me that Officer March and Mage Niath have matters in hand,” Ware said unexpectedly, before the two Ageless could start another argument. “I suggest we leave them to their enquiries. Officer March, you may consider yourself on duty. I will inform your Sergeant. Report to me later, please.”
“Sir,” Thea said, fetching her badge from her pocket and adding it to her lapel. Not for the first time, the badge seemed to weigh more than it should, carrying the authority of the Watch.
“She will report to me,” the Treasurer said.
“No. She will report to me and to the captain,” Reardon said.
Thea’s skin crawled again with the power-play going on over her head.
“Thea, I suggest you get on with your enquiries. Gentlemen, let’s discuss this in Treasurer Winchell’s office,” Ware suggested, waving a hand towards the stairs.
The two Ageless were staring at each other, but broke off their silent contest and stalked towards the stairs, each of them trying to get there first.
Thea turned away before they reached the stairs, not needing to see the result of the silent contest. According to human legend, the Ageless were all-powerful, benevolent and noble beings. Thea was quite sure that whoever had come up with that legend had never actually met any of the Ageless.
“What now?” Niath asked her.
“We’ll ask questions,” Thea said absently, the better part of her mind turning over the information that Winchell and Reardon had given her. The forgeries were only in the separate coins kept by the Treasury. “And then we need to visit the mint and find out how the coins are made,” she added, moving towards the tables.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Asking questions of the workers individually took an age. Niath was content to let her do the talking, apparently growing restless as the day wore on. He brought out a handful of dice from somewhere about his person and was amusing himself with throwing the dice across the table whilst Thea asked questions of the workers.
Each interview took longer than it should have because every one of the workers had the same fear hanging over them. They expected to die, Thea could see. They were co-operating with her, but they did not think it would do any good.
And none of them had done anything wrong.
They were innocent. All of them. It made Thea’s eyes sting, knowing how close they had been to being punished for something they did not do.
A few of them were coming to the end of their Conscription. One was a mere handful of days away from his freedom, when he would be let out of the Citadel gates with the clothes on his back, free to make his own life from then on. There was a tradition of providing a small purse of coins to the Ageless-born when they reached the end of their Conscription, but it was not the law. They had served the Archon and the Ageless without pay and without thanks for twenty-five years, and were simply let out into the nearest city or town, left to make their own way.
There were a few groups of volunteers who kept watch on the Citadel in Accanter. Thea’s mother knew several of them. They kept a look out for any Ageless-born freed from service and made sure they had a place to stay for at least a few days. Thea did not know if such volunteers existed anywhere else in the world. It was no wonder that some of the Ageless-born turned around and went back into the Citadel, seeking paid work. Many of them had been Conscripted young, and had no idea how to live outside their service.
Conscription could be brutal. But among the Treasury workers, all of them knew how lucky they were to have been assigned to the Treasury. If they did their jobs and did not anger the Treasurer, they had a chance of making it back into the world again, of being released from their service. A chance to make their own decisions. The overwhelming majority of Ageless-born who were Conscripted did not get that chance, their lives spent in one of the Archon’s never-ending wars. Despite ruling at least half of the known worlds, the Archon’s wish for more land and more power seemed never-ending.
They had too much to lose by trying to fake the Archon’s coins. And they were not stupid enough to try. They all knew that the supervisor did not trust them.
“We need to speak to the other workers,” Thea said, as the last one of the Conscripted workers got up and left the table.
“None of them did anything, did they?” Niath asked. His eyes were on the dice on the table, but Thea realised he had, in fact, been paying attention to the questions and answers around him.
“No,” she agreed.
“The Treasurer will not be pleased,” Niath said, gathering his dice.
Thea pressed her lips together for a moment, holding in hasty words, then blew out a breath. “Those are my findings,” she said, getting up from the bench and stretching. She was stiff and sore from sitting for too long.
“We should look at the mint next,” Niath said. “The other workers are mostly there, I think, so we can observe them at the same time.”
Thea looked across at him as he got to his feet as well. Her brows lifted.
“Good plan,” she said.
His mouth lifted in a brief smile, with little humour in it. “You do realise that if we don’t find anything here, it gives us a bigger problem.”
Thea followed him to the stairs. She knew exactly what he meant, as the same thought had crossed her mind.
If the forgeries had not been made in the Treasury or the mint, then that meant that they had been made somewhere else. And that meant that, somewhere, there was a group of people brave enough or foolish enough to challenge the Archon’s authority by faking the only permitted currency in the city. And doing so with the considerable skill required to produce coins that ordinary folk would not be able to tell apart from the real ones.
The Archon and the Ageless would see that a direct challenge to the Archon’s authority. And the Ageless did not care who they hurt when they were pursuing the Archon’s will.
~
The ageing supervisor found them as they were halfway down the stairs, narrow-eyed and displeased when they asked to see the mint, and have an explanation for how the coins were made.
Despite her reluctance, once they reached the floor of the Treasury, several stories underground, deep into the heart of the mountain, she proved an efficient guide, talking them through the process from the raw materials to the finished coins. She spoke with the authority of a lifetime of knowledge, all the while keeping a close watch on the workers.
Thea tried to follow the explanations that she was given, but was distracted by the press of magic all around her. The furnace and molds that the Treasury used to form the Archon’s coins were saturated with magic. Old, powerful spells that had a hint of the Ageless about them.
And that was the difference she had noticed. When Niath had given her the fake coin, there had been no resonance in the metal. The small trace of magic that a genuine coin carried inside it.
Which meant that none of the forged coins had been made here. Any coin made within the Treasury would bear the same magic trace as the genuine coins the Treasury produced.
And there was no other furnace, or coin-making equipment anywhere in the building, or within the Citadel’s walls, the supervisor confirmed, slightly taken aback by the suggestion.
Thea
looked around and shivered slightly, despite the heat from the furnace. They were far underground, with no natural light reaching them. The Ageless or, more likely, workers for the Ageless, had tunnelled deep into the rock around them to create the mint. In the shadows not far away was a wooden and iron door similar to the one far over their heads that had let them into the Treasury.
She saw one of the workers nearby following the direction of her gaze. He looked away quickly, body stiff with tension. Her interest sharpened. They might not have found the source of the forgeries yet, but there was something going on.
“What is that door?” Thea asked.
“It’s the entrance to the vault,” the supervisor answered.
The worker that Thea was looking at flinched slightly. Definitely something there.
“Can we see inside?” Thea asked, following her instincts.
The supervisor’s brows lifted. “I suppose. We’ve already checked the contents, though.”
Another worker approached them with a low-voiced question for the supervisor. She scowled at the worker, then turned that scowl to Thea.
“I need to deal with this. Simon,” she called. “Show the officer and mage into the vaults.” She pulled a chain over her head, a heavy key dangling at the end, and held it out.
The worker that Thea had spotted, his body still stiff with tension, came towards them and took the key. He would not meet Thea’s eyes, waiting until the supervisor had left with the other worker before moving towards the vault doors.
“Have you worked here long?” Thea asked.
“Long enough,” Simon said.
“The supervisor seems to trust you,” she said. She was used to people being wary of the Watch. But this was different.
“I suppose,” Simon said. They had reached the door now, and Simon put the key in the lock.
“Is there something wrong?” Thea asked.
“No, ma’am,” he said. He opened the door, revealing pitch black ahead of them. He spoke a word and lanterns inside the door lit, providing enough light for Thea to see a wide corridor with more iron-banded doors leading off to either side. Interesting. The lanterns were set to obey a particular word, and didn’t require a mage to activate them. It was efficient, but it was also a trick that Thea had not seen before. “What would you like to see?”
“Can you show us one of the rooms?” Thea asked, continuing to follow her instincts. She glanced at Niath to find him watching Simon with bright-eyed interest. Aware that something was wrong.
“Ay. Any particular one?” Simon asked.
Thea followed his gaze as he looked down the corridor ahead. Four doors on either side. And it seemed to her that he was avoiding looking at the third door on the left.
“That one,” she pointed. Third door on the left.
He flinched, more obviously than before, but moved forward, the heavy key still in his hand. His shirt was clinging to his back, damp with sweat, Thea saw, his shoulders slightly bowed, head lowered. Wary and frightened. She had seen enough of the same signs in the Conscripted workers above to recognise them.
But this was one of the paid workers. Trusted enough that the supervisor had given him a key to let her unwanted visitors into the vaults. There should be no reason for him to be frightened of a Watch Officer and a mage.
He opened the door and spoke another word, lighting the lanterns inside, and stood aside to let Thea and Niath see into the room.
It was bigger than she had expected, and with higher ceilings. There were iron-banded wooden chests placed in a neat line along one wall, the back wall taken up with floor-to-ceiling shelves with objects set along the shelves. Many of the objects gleamed in the lantern light. Gold. Diamonds and other precious stones.
There was more wealth in this one room than Thea had ever imagined could exist.
And something else. Something that made Simon wary and frightened.
“Are all the rooms like this?” she asked.
“Yes.” Simon was still avoiding her eyes.
“Is that a golden lion?” Niath asked, stepping past Thea into the room, heading for the shelves.
Thea opened her mouth to call a warning, the sound cut off by a hard shove in the small of her back that sent her stumbling forward into the room. She whirled just in time to see the door closing, slamming shut as she reached it.
There was the slight click of the key as the lock turned from the outside.
There was no lock or handle on this side of the door.
Thea backed away from the door, stumbling into Niath.
Even as she gathered a breath to shout at Simon outside, he called into the room. One word.
“Intruders.”
The lanterns died immediately, plunging the room into impenetrable dark.
The air in the room grew heavy, pressing against Thea’s shoulders, and a wave of magic slithered over her skin.
“This room is protected,” Niath said. He was too close to her, but she had no attention to spare for that. She had never heard him sound so grim.
“What does that mean?” she asked, turning her head to see if she could make out any shapes in the room. It was no use. It was completely dark, and even Ageless-born eyes required some light to see.
“We’re trapped,” Niath said.
“I know that,” Thea snapped at him.
“The Ageless don’t like intruders in their spaces,” he said. He sounded like he was trying to stay calm, but Thea could hear the breathless edge to his voice. He was worried.
One of the most powerful mages in the world was worried.
Her throat tightened, breathing harsh in her ears. She was locked in. She couldn’t see. And the mage was worried.
A sound lodged in her throat. She swallowed it with difficulty.
Somewhere close to them, something cracked. It sounded like wood splitting open, followed by the sound of water pouring. The heavy, stale air of the room was saturated with the tang of salt water.
“What does that mean?” Thea asked again.
Before Niath could answer, something slid around her ankle. She kicked out, trying to free herself. Whatever-it-was tightened its grip, pulling her forward.
“Something’s got my leg,” she said, voice rising.
“Mine, too,” Niath said.
“Can you make some light at least?” Thea asked, voice too high. Whatever had taken hold of her was strong.
Niath didn’t answer directly, but the warmth of his magic spread across her skin and the room lit up with a soft, golden light.
More than enough for Thea to see the thing that had got hold of her and Niath.
It was spread across the floor, a mottled mass of dark purple with lighter spots scattered at random. A creature of some kind. It had a rounded body surrounded by far too many long, sinuous legs, one of which was wrapped around her leg, another of which was tangled with Niath’s robes.
“What is that thing?” Thea asked, trying to shake herself free of the tentacle.
“It looks like an octopus,” Niath said.
“Don’t they live in the sea? What’s it doing here? And why is it so big?” Thea asked, her voice rising in pitch again.
Before Niath could answer any of her questions, she saw where it had come from. One of the chests had split open. The stone floor was wet around the broken wood. That explained the salt water smell. There was also a deeper stench of something half-rotten that she assumed was the octopus.
“More to the point, how do we stop it?” Niath asked, also trying to free himself. He bent down, trying to get a grip on the tentacle. His hands slid off the mottled surface. “That’s foul,” he said, straightening, rubbing his hands on the skirts of his robe.
Every effort they made only tightened the octopus’ grip on them.
It was impossible that a creature of that size had been contained in so small a chest, she thought. There must have been magic involved somewhere. Somehow.
And on its release, the creature had decided to grab h
old of her and Niath with single-minded purpose. She remembered the word Simon had spoken after he had locked the door. Intruders. Triggering an alarm of some kind. And releasing this vast creature into the room.
She wondered if Simon had known. If he had cared.
“If only I had a sword,” Thea complained, trying to stamp on the tentacle with her free leg. That only made the octopus’ grip her ankle more tightly, and another one of its tentacles slid across the floor, aiming for her free leg. She shuffled awkwardly away, trying to avoid its reach. She would not succeed for long. The creature had hold of her. She could not move away.
“Sword? You want a sword? What- Oh, wait, I can help with that,” Niath said. Thea risked taking her eyes off the creature to glance at him as he reached into his robe and produced a familiar-looking knife.
“Is that the knife from Ambrose’s shop?” Thea asked, brows lifting. The one that the Mage had spelled into a weapon for her. A sword with a beautifully sharp edge. She wanted to grab it from him. Even the blunt knife would be better than nothing at fending off the tentacle that was still sliding towards her.
“Yes. I had forgotten all about it.” Niath was losing his calm, too, voice higher than it had been. He said another word and the knife shimmered and grew into a familiar weapon. “Here.” He held it out to her, almost losing his balance as he tried to lean over to her and kick away another tentacle approaching him.
Thea snatched the sword from him, the weight of it perfectly balanced for her hand and arm, and sliced down with all her strength. The spelled edge of the blade cut through the tentacle that was holding her.
The creature shrieked, the sound vibrating through Thea’s skull. The creature pulled back, freeing her and Niath. The severed end of the tentacle twitched on the stone in front of her, the wound on the creature bleeding what looked like black ink, releasing a noxious smell into the air that made Thea’s eyes water.
She and Niath moved backwards, towards the shelves.
The octopus seemed to shrink on itself, and then expand, its body doubling in size, its tentacles sprouting spikes along their length. The spikes were about the length of Thea’s hand, vivid yellow underneath.
False Dawn: Ageless Mysteries - Book 2 Page 8
