The Church of Sleep (Central Series Book 5)

by Zachary Rawlins

  “I’ll be dead by then. Is this some sort of power trip?”

  “A reminder, perhaps, of our respective places. We may be peers, Chief Auditor, but we are not equals.”

  “Assholes like you are the reason they invented the guillotine,” Rebecca said, sweat dripping from her everywhere. “Can we get on with it?”

  Henry laughed, setting aside his trimmer and spray bottle.

  “I can see why Gaul liked you so much. Your candor and absolute lack of charm are such a refreshing change of pace.”

  “Flatterer.”

  “Anything to get what I want.” He untied his apron, and then took her gently by the elbow. “Shall we step outside, then? The garden might be more to your taste.”

  He led her outside to a small courtyard, where a gravel path twisted about beneath white-barked sycamore and flowering heather. A few beds of flowers were scattered about, and several broad lawns, but the lack of sun precluded most of the familiar garden staples.

  A wrought-iron table was laid out for tea beneath a canopy not far from the greenhouse.

  “Oh, thank God,” Rebecca said, starting toward the table. “I’m parched!”

  Henry caught her by the arm before she took a second step.

  “I will be taking tea with my wife, who will be here shortly,” Henry said. “You will be gone before that, and you can find your own tea.”

  “How stingy,” Rebecca said, sighing as she shoved the manila folder into his hands. “Here, then. For you.”

  He did not open it.

  “What is this?”

  “Did you forget how to read?”

  “Let’s pretend that I did. What is this?”

  “It’s an authorization for an Inquiry into the death of Katya Zharova.”

  “I see. You plan to investigate the death of an Auditor under your own command?”

  “That, as well as a certain incident in your past. A Black Sun assassination attempt, purportedly involving Katya, and your father’s rumored response to it.”

  “She is dead, Chief Auditor, as is my father. I have already told you that there was no such attempt, much less any sort of retribution.” Lord North paged through the file with a tired expression. “What purpose does this serve?”

  “I told you what would happen if I thought you were lying to me,” Rebecca said. “I never had a chance to talk with Katya about any of this before she died. That’s too bad.”

  “How inconvenient,” Henry said bitterly. “Do you suppose she would have indicted me?”

  “Not at all.” Rebecca gave him a cold look. “She probably would have lied to me. I really don’t like it when people lie to me. We empaths tend to take that as an insult.”

  “The girl is dead, closing that avenue to prove my innocence.” Henry smirked. “Can I expect a fair and impartial investigation?”

  “I plan to be scrupulous and thorough. It’s very important to me that I’m wrong about this, Henry. I will jump at any chance to prove myself wrong.”

  “You are a puzzle, Chief Auditor. You wish to disprove the conclusion you have already jumped to?”

  “I’ve made no conclusions. All I know is that I’m being lied to, and that makes me suspicious. Suspicion is all I have right now. It would be best for everyone involved if that was all this came to.”

  “Why is that?”

  “If I’m right, then I’ll have to do something about it,” Rebecca said calmly. “You don’t want that, Chief Administrator.”

  The butler reappeared, giving Lord North a nod before trotting off again.

  “My wife has arrived,” Henry said moodily. “Do you have any actual progress to report? Or did you come all the way out here simply to accuse me?”

  “We’ve made some progress. I’ve got some theories. Nothing concrete yet, but you’ll be the first to hear when we do.”

  “See that I am.”

  “I already said I would.”

  “Fine, then,” Henry said. “You are dismissed, Chief Auditor. I will see you later tonight.”

  “Sure, Henry, whatever,” she muttered, stomping off in the opposite direction from the one the butler tried to direct her. “Have a nice tea party.”

  The butler pleaded and hovered, but she ignored him.

  She nearly collided with Sofia Morales-North on her way out. She was trailed by a servant, a blonde young man with freckles and slicked-back hair that Rebecca would have preferred to the nagging butler who escorted her.

  “Chief Auditor,” Sofia said, stepping aside gracefully. “A pleasure to see you.”

  “Yeah. Listen, Sofia. You better keep a close eye on Henry, okay?”

  “Why is that?”

  “Being the last man standing isn’t the same thing is winning,” Rebecca said, nearly pushing the butler over when he tried to interfere. “You may be on top, but you are also on thin ice, and I’m right there underneath it, like…like some kind of ice shark.”

  Sofia stared, while Rebecca bit her lip and slowly turned red.

  “There…uh, there are ice sharks, aren’t there? Like, white ones that eat penguins? That’s why they named the hockey team that, right?”

  “I worry that you are not getting enough sleep, Chief Auditor,” Sofia said. “Are you certain you are quite fit for your position?”

  “I’m not fucking around, Sofia. I’ve opened an Inquiry, and I’m going to follow it wherever it goes. Fair warning.”

  “An Inquiry?” Lady North raised a perfectly maintained eyebrow. “Into what, exactly?”

  “You know what. Better hope I don’t find anything.”

  Rebecca stomped away, brushing off the butler’s attempts to guide her.

  “Might wanna keep an eye on your daughter, too,” Rebecca called out as she left. “She’s becoming a real handful.”

  ***

  The cemetery was not particularly large, as most residents of Central were buried in family plots elsewhere. There were many new graves for the orphans and Administration staff who had died in the conflict with the Thule Cartel, fresh bouquets of imported flowers scattered across freshly carved marble.

  Her path wound through the section reserved for Auditors and Academy staff, among new rectangular cuts in the soil. Eerie passed by the plain white stone that marked Alice Gallow’s resting place, though Eerie heard that they had not found a body to inter, and a grey memorial for Grigori Aushev that was covered in cut roses. There was only a simple metal plate set flush with the ground for Karim Sabir, as his remains had gone back to Mosul. The marker for Hayley Weathers was situated beneath a green willow and was similarly modest, but Eerie knew there was a large mausoleum at a private cemetery in Central proper where Hayley and the rest of her family were buried.

  Eerie stopped to visit Margot first, at the back of the Auditor’s section, placing the smaller of the two bouquets next to the simple marker, not because she cared less, but because the vampire had always hated flowers.

  “I miss you every day,” Eerie said, her fingers resting on the marble, the sharp edges of the engraved stone not yet dulled by the elements. “I know that you came to like Alex, even though you never said it, so I think you’d be happy that I’m looking after him. I wish you were still here.”

  There was more Eerie wanted to say, but the words would not come, so she just stood there, staring at the name on the stone, overwhelmed by grief and nostalgia.

  Eventually she forced herself to move on, taking a roundabout way to the other grave she needed to visit, walking the whole perimeter of the cemetery before she finally arrived at the second headstone, not really very far from where Margot was buried.

  The marker was larger than Margot’s, done in pink-flecked marble, with gilded Cyrillic lettering and Black Sun insignia.

  This was not the only place that Katya Zharova was buried. Her ashes had been divided, one part remaining here, while the other was taken to the Martynova burial grounds, in the woods near the family dacha, and laid to rest with honor, in a plot near the Martynov
a family mausoleum, beside her brother Timor’s resting place.

  Eerie had attended that funeral out of a sense of obligation.

  The Changeling would have preferred to skip it, but her friends had needed her, so she had stood with Emily and Vivik, holding their hands as Katya’s coffin was lowered into the ground, listening to a man in gold and white robes speak lyrically in Russian. Eerie could not understand a word of it, but something in his tone had provided a certain amount of comfort.

  Despite that, she had delayed this visit as long as she possibly could.

  The funeral had been a requirement, Eerie understood, and this was goodbye. She touched the headstone gently.

  “You understood what I was doing better than anyone,” Eerie said, surprised that she was not crying. “You still helped. You always helped. You never ran away when I needed you, and you never turned your back on me, even when I was selfish. You never…”

  She choked up and had to take a moment to regain her composure.

  “I wish it had been almost anyone else. I have so many things that I want to say to you, and now…I guess I will just never say them.”

  The wind whipped up and tore through the woods, going about its business in defiance of the importance of the moment. It blew Eerie’s hair into her mouth and her eyes, and as she brushed it aside, she felt a profound and ridiculous resentment.

  “It isn’t fair,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

  She put the flowers on the grave, and the wind immediately rolled them off.

  “You saved my life and you saved Alex,” Eerie said, picking up the flowers before the wind could carry them away. “You never asked for anything. You joined my club, and we were together in the Outer Dark. I’m really afraid that I’ll never have another friend like you.”

  She ran her fingers across Katya’s name in the stone, like it was braille and she could read it with her fingertips.

  “I’m sorry it took me so long to visit, but it hurts. It still…I’m sorry. I’m sorry Alex hasn’t come to visit yet. He doesn’t know that you’re gone. He’s still asleep.”

  Eerie closed her eyes, clinging to the tombstone for balance.

  “You were right to warn him about me,” Eerie wailed. “He’s still asleep, and that’s my fault.”

  Sniffling, she searched around the grave site until she found a small rock, and then replaced the flowers on the grave, weighing them down with the rock.

  “He loved you,” Eerie said. “I think you were the first person he ever really cared about, and I also think you taught him how to care for me. None of this would have happened without you. I wish I could pay you back, somehow.”

  The wind riffled the blossoms and snatched at the plastic wrapping, but the bouquet stayed in place.

  After staring at the headstone for a long time, Eerie nodded.

  She wanted to say something else – a million things, really – but she knew if she said any more, she would start to cry, so she stood quietly until it felt like she had been there long enough.

  Eerie meant to say goodbye, but the heaviness in her chest was so crushing that it felt as if her sneakers sank into the damp soil with each step, the weight of her grief sitting firmly on her shoulders as she started back to the Academy, feeling that the day had already been very long.

  ***

  If pomp and circumstance were a shield, then Henry North was well protected for his first official reception of the Mistress of the Black Sun.

  On consultation with his wife, he met her in formal dress, in the reception room of the old manor outside Central, lining the entry with servants and making certain that Sofia was beside him, dressed glamorously and bedecked with his grandmother’s jewelry.

  His wife had the hunting trophies accumulated by three generations of Norths removed before the visit, considering Lady Martynova’s perceived sensibilities, and while they waited for their guest, Henry found his eyes drawn to the white spaces where the mounts of caribou, water buffalo, and ibex had been.

  It hardly felt like the room he normally received visitors in.

  Even the jaguar- and tiger-skin rugs had been removed, replaced with unfamiliar Turkish carpets. It felt like an entirely different room, and left Henry ill at ease in what he still considered his father’s house.

  Arriving early or late would have sent a message. Lady Martynova arrived precisely on time, in a motorcade of five armored Mercedes, each with a feathered black exterior characteristic of carbon fiber.

  She was preceded by her bodyguard, Renton Hall, who made a quick inspection of the premises before escorting her from the car. Her lady’s maid, Mai Quan, followed at her heels.

  The Mistress of the Black Sun kept tailors in Paris, Beijing, and Tokyo. Henry had no idea which had produced the intricate silk dress she wore, cut in a classic Chinese style and accented with gold and crimson embroidery, her hair styled and ornamented to match.

  Sofia moved to greet her after she was announced, and Henry followed suit, smiling politely and offering a short bow. Anastasia greeted him demurely, and took the chair his servants offered, but refused tea.

  “Thank you for having me,” Anastasia said, her eyes as dead as her father. “My compliments on your home.”

  “I’m glad you made time for us in your schedule. I know that it is a very busy day,” Sofia said, allowing Henry to guide her back to her seat. “There were far too many people at the meeting, and I’m sure tonight will be the same.”

  “It seemed important that we speak,” Anastasia said. “I assume that you wish to extend the truce that was struck during the Thule conflict.”

  Her tone was chilly, and her stare was frigid and dark.

  “Indeed. Central has seen enough of war,” Henry said. “Don’t you think, Lady Martynova?”

  “I believe conflict is inevitable,” Anastasia said, “but not always desirable.”

  “Nothing is inevitable,” Sofia protested. “This is a new day, with both the Hegemony and the Black Sun under new leadership. This is an opportunity to put old feuds and rivalries aside and look instead to the future.”

  “The Black Sun is indeed under new leadership, but I am less certain of the Hegemony.” Anastasia looked calmly at Henry, and something about her flat eyes made his skin crawl. “I have heard that a test vote for unification of the Hegemony under your son’s leadership has failed, Chief Administrator.”

  “On a technicality,” Sofia said. “The Hegemony has not had a unified leadership in generations. It will take some time to iron out all the wrinkles and soothe the worried parties, but my son will assume the office in due time, I assure you.”

  “It is on that very subject that I wished to speak with you,” Henry said. “You are known to be close with Lady Ricci.”

  “She is my cousin,” Anastasia said. “Familiarity is to be expected, is it not?”

  “Quite so,” Sofia interjected. “We are all very fond of Serafina.”

  “Of course,” Anastasia said. “Who would not be?”

  “As fond as we are of Lady Ricci,” Henry said, “her political positions have clashed with my own of late.”

  “Is that so?”

  “It is, Lady Martynova. Since you know of the outcome of the recent vote, you must also know that your cousin is the heart and soul of my opposition within the Hegemony.”

  “I am aware,” Anastasia said. “I consider that an internal Hegemony matter, however.”

  Henry hesitated, feeling acutely the pressure to choose the correct words.

  An accusation of tampering could easily lead to war, but anything less could easily be perceived as a request for the Black Sun to intervene in Hegemonic affairs, setting a disastrous precedent.

  “We have had little success negotiating with Lady Ricci directly,” Henry said. “We therefore wondered if you might act as meditator and assist us in resolving this impasse for the betterment of all.”

  “I understand what you want of me, Chief Administrator,” Anastasia said. “What I f
ail to understand is why I might wish to assist you in this matter.”

  “It would not be only myself that you would be assisting,” Henry said. “Serafina Ricci would be the primary beneficiary of your intervention.”

  “She has put herself in a precarious situation by defying the will of the Assembly-at-Large and the recommendation of the Board,” Sofia said. “We do not wish any harm to come to Lady Ricci, but we cannot speak for the whole of the Hegemony.”

  “Which returns us to the issue,” Anastasia said. “If you cannot guarantee my cousin’s safety from your own allies, then you cannot be said to speak for the Hegemony at all, can you?”

  “If we have the votes to unify the Hegemony, it will be a small matter to ensure Miss Ricci’s well-being,” Henry said, straining to maintain his jovial expression. “We are prepared to compensate you for your assistance – in an entirely confidential manner, of course – and our offer for Lady Ricci’s cooperation is more than generous. Would you review it, please?”

  A telepath from among his servants stepped forward. Anastasia nodded to her maid and her bodyguard. Renton squinted, but his slight grin did not fade, while Mai winced briefly, before resuming her impassive expression.

  There was a delay while the telepaths presumably relayed his offer to their Mistress.

  The maid looked pleased with herself, while the bodyguard grimaced and pleaded with his Mistress with his eyes. Henry had no idea what to make of any of it.

  Anastasia blinked, and then slowly nodded.

  “You have reviewed the offer?”

  “This proposal does appear to be equitable. I compliment you on your efforts to craft a solution that allows each party to salvage something from the situation.” Anastasia fixed him with her icy stare, and again, he felt a sense of repulsion that mystified him. “My compliments.”

  “Wonderful,” Sofia said, clasping her hands. “You will mediate, then?”

  “No,” Anastasia said, letting her refusal linger for an extra moment. “I will not.”

  “Why not, Lady Martynova?” Henry asked. “You said yourself it was a fair offer.”