by J. B. Markes
"To my knowledge, only the Crown Inspector and Master Xavier," Chalke replied. "The pair came and went, and turned up nothing. Hopefully you'll have better luck." Chalke carried himself with the confidence of any other expert wizard I'd met, but he seemed practical, willing to set aside ego to work toward a goal. He won me over quickly. Of course, his dark shoulder-length hair and smart leather Sentinel robes didn't hurt either. I was pleased when I learned he would be my personal escort for the duration of my stay at the palace.
Prince Jasper's chamber was enormous, three times the size of the audience chamber we had just visited. For whatever reason, there were two separate beds, each exquisite mahogany, but the linens had been stripped and removed from the room, much to Gustobald's irritation.
"Of course!" Gustobald rapped the bed with his staff. "We're late on the scene. Bastion Raines does it again!"
I looked under the beds and found bare floor, then moved on to the sword stand in the corner. There were three blades of superior craftsmanship, thin thrusting blades of the type that fencers used. They were identical to my eye, so I pulled one at random and admired its elegance. The pommel's guard was a basket twist that spiraled gracefully around my hand. There was a line of tall mirrors that covered the wall in front of me, so I watched myself swing the blade a few times just for the experience, then realized everyone was watching me.
"Sorry," I said, returning the blade.
"The prince was a fine swordsman," Lionell said. "Not as skilled as me, of course. Few are."
On the floor nearby was a training mat where the prince no doubt spent countless hours practicing his footwork. The paint was worn off the bamboo and the bindings were snapped in several places. I turned in a slow circle, watching myself in the mirrors and growing discouraged at the amount of empty space in the room.
There was a trunk against the wall large enough for me to lie down in. It was unlocked, so I swung open the lid and found the interior was divided into compartments, each of them empty. There were no paintings or tapestries to soften the coarse stone walls. The place barely looked lived in at all.
"Why is it empty?" I asked. "And why is the room so clean? Did the inspector have everything removed?"
"The prince's room is always clean," Lionell said. "The servants keep things in order."
"He rarely comes at that," Sentinel Chalke added. "And then only to train or sleep."
"When he sleeps," Lionell said with a smirk. "He spent many nights outside his chambers."
"Doing what?" I asked.
"What do young people do, Miss Ives?" Gustobald replied. "Eat, drink, and—practice their swordsmanship." Gustobald's wistful tone challenged me to picture him as a young man. He wasn't old, even though I often regarded him as such. His braided beard and receding hairline added ten years to anyone's best guest. But he was definitely old enough to be my father, and to a woman in her twenties that was ancient.
"I guess I wouldn't know about such things," I said.
"You've been a prisoner in a library your whole life," he said, ignoring my glare. "You should get out more."
"Should I now?" I didn't know whether to laugh or be offended. "Tell me all about it, Master Pitch. What is the secret to your great success?"
"Hum!" Gustobald inspected the bed posts closely. "I was young once, you know. And foolish."
"And what of the transmuter Gretel? Was she young and foolish, too?" I slammed the trunk to put us back on task, but he continued the conversation under his breath as he resumed his search. There were small windows lining the ceiling of two walls, few of which could be opened. None of them were large enough for a person to pass through. "I don't think he was taken from this chamber," I said. "There's no way out but past the guards and no signs of a struggle. I don't know what we're looking for."
"Just being thorough, Miss Ives," Gustobald said. "No harm in that, after all."
I went back to the bed on the far side of the room. There was a low desk in the corner that I had spotted when I looked beneath. It was short enough to be hidden from view from any casual visitors who might be at the door. The drawer on this one was locked, so I whispered a spell and waited for the latch to click. The desk contained the usual: a tiny knife, some uncut feathers, a line of red wax, and a pair of reading glasses.
"Did Prince Jasper have trouble with his vision?" I asked. "He's a little young for glasses, right?" I looked through the lenses, but they only magnified my vision without distorting it.
"His eyes were fine," Chalke said, doubt slowing his speech. "As far as I know."
I dropped the glasses back into the drawer and closed it firmly, then crossed to the far side of the room where Gustobald was sifting through the pages of a book. "Tell me it's a journal," I said, but he clapped the cover shut and handed it to me. The Mystic Warrior: A Study of Sorcery and Steel. "What is this?"
I turned through the pages. It was a standard spell book, with common explanations for the effective usage of each spell. Notes were scribbled in the margins, but it was a foreign script I didn't recognize. I turned back to the bedside table and held out my palm, opening the drawer. With a twist of my hand I called the prince's reading glasses to my hand and placed them atop my nose, giving the pages a second look. The unknown words reformed in my mind's eye. They were amendments and observations written by one of the book's previous owners.
"These glasses are enchanted," I said. "They allow a person to comprehend languages. Why does every commoner think he can just pick up a book and start using magic?"
"Commoner?" Lionell asked. "Did you just call the prince—"
"She means someone who can't cast," Chalke said. "Like you, Lionell, you commoner. Miss Ives, Prince Jasper called each and every one of us sentinels to this chamber at one time or another to interpret the runes in this book. He had the childish notion of becoming the greatest swordsman in history. When he couldn't pick it up, he blamed us for his inability to learn, called us bad teachers."
"Sounds like he was difficult to work with," Gustobald said.
"An understatement," Chalke said. "He wasn't popular with any of the guards."
"I didn't think him so bad," Lionell said. "A little demanding, but what's the point in being a prince if you can't order people around once in a while?"
I dropped the book on the table and sifted through a stack of blank papers, uncovering one that had a wax seal. "A letter from Lady Ashdown," I said. "Hidden on the bottom. She has a steady hand; her penmanship is impressive. Listen to this. 'Your Highness, the time of our alliance draws near. I was pleased to receive His Majesty's official invitation to the palace and look forward to our first meeting. May we bring honor upon our families and upon your future kingdom. Yours in betrothal.' Not exactly a confession of love. What do you make of it?"
"We're not in the magic city anymore," Gustobald said, ignoring my zeal. "Marriages are far more practical here. Prattling on about sentiment could be viewed as inappropriate."
I fixed the two halves of the broken seal together to reveal a colossus at the gates. "This must be the seal of Northsgate," I said, leaning it to catch the light so Gustobald could see.
"We'll need to design a seal for the necromancy school soon," Gustobald said. "Any ideas?"
"Oh, the academy would love that. Wait a minute." The other papers were blank, with a clipped quill and ink stowed nearby. I searched through the drawers of the table and looked back to the bedside desk. "The prince's seal is gone. If the inspector didn't remove it, then whoever took him must have it."
"Very good, Miss Ives," Gustobald said with a crooked smile before turning to the two guards. "You see?"
"Hold on," Sentinel Chalke said. "What do you mean whoever took him? The Seeker says the prince was murdered."
"That's what Master Xavier believes," I said.
"Let that be a lesson to you then," Gustobald said, pointing at Chalke as he left the room. "Never send an astrologist to do a necromancer's job."
"A lesson? I didn't send any
one anywhere." Chalke squinted at Lionell. "And that doesn't even—"
"Make sense?" I asked, matching his last words perfectly. "Welcome to my world."
Chapter 6
"Unacceptable!" Gustobald paced the corridor, thumping his staff on the floor every few steps. The rhythm provided a measure for his frustration, speeding up or slowing down in keeping with his temper. His path took him just far enough away to make our two guards nervous. After several starts and stops to keep the old man in sight, the guard Lionell just gave up and trailed a few steps behind him. "Miss Ives, I have half a mind to turn around and head back to the magic school." I nodded silently, warm to the idea of returning to regular study, but Gustobald wasn't placated. "We're here at the invitation of His Majesty! We should have a direct line of communication with the king."
"Maybe Master Xavier heard what you said about astrologists and necromancers." Sentinel Chalke gave me a wink as he leaned casually against the wall. Chalke had tried to engage me in light conversation while we waited. I enjoyed talking to him, but I withdrew once his questions turned personal, particularly regarding my interest in necromancy. He was cordial enough, but if I had no time for Harper Lazrus, the same was true for a Sentinel, first or second class. Their kind spent most of their days hunting necromancers, so I didn't intend to give him any information, little that I had.
Gustobald made yet another pass by the sturdy door of the Royal Seer's chambers, but this time stopped to rap his staff repeatedly against its iron surface. When no answer came, he turned to face his pursuer, and Lionell fell back a step. "Are we prisoners here?" he asked. "Toss us in the calaboose and be done with it!"
"That time might come yet, Mr. Pitch." A familiar voice rang deep in the close quarters of the hallway. The Crown Inspector strolled leisurely from one of the recesses. I recognized Bastion Raines's dusty long coat and rounded hat instantly. He had grown a short beard in the month since we'd last spoken, and he seemed softer for it. He gave a slight bow but there was no time for introductions.
"You!" Gustobald let out a curse, put his hands on his hips, and rushed to block the passage. Inspector Raines tried to edge around, but the necromancer wouldn't let him pass, inching left or right to mirror the inspector's movements.
"Be nice, Gustobald," I said.
The necromancer wouldn't budge. "If it isn't the slack-jawed slewfoot that made such a mess of things at the academy! Which one of us do you suspect today, Inspector?"
Inspector Raines tried once more to pass, but Gustobald wouldn't have it. To his credit, Raines didn't raise his voice at all. "I've been meaning to send my apologies about that," he said, removing his hat. "Not that I should apologize for doing my job. But let's chalk it up as a lesson learned. We're all on the same side here, yes? We're at our best when we work together."
"Hum!" Gustobald pulled the brim tighter on his crooked hat.
"We're off to a great start for that," I said. "Master Xavier has kept us waiting in the hallway for the better part of an hour." I shot a cursory glance to Gustobald, thankful he wasn't in an instructive mood. He would often chastise me for speaking of a master in such a casual tone, with little regard for his own hypocrisy or the fact that I was no longer obliged to recognize the courtesies of the Academy Magus.
Gustobald puffed up his chest and gave Raines the evil eye, but the inspector just reached over the wizard's shoulder and struck the door knocker twice. "It's Raines!" A few seconds later, the door swung free and Gustobald's face darkened all the more. He paused a moment to choose his battle, then shook his head and pushed through the doorway, the guard Lionell trudging along behind him.
"Miss Ives." The inspector gave a proper bow this time. "Such a pleasure to see you again. I wasn't sure I would. But here you are, so I trust that everything has worked out well for you."
"As well as could be hoped," I said. The inspector's smile was sincere, displaying strength of character that was in short supply. His toothy grin again brought to mind Harper Lazrus, who would be hard at work now in the alchemist's lab of the Tower of Creation, but if I were to walk in at that moment he would give me the same warm welcome.
"You seem content," Raines said. "But do remember my offer is still open. Should you ever need a place in the outside world, I could use a bright mind like yours. It would make my job easier."
"It's kind of you. But I have too much on my mind already. And I'm sorry for Gustobald. I know he complicates things."
"No need for apologies," he said. "Mr. Pitch is here at my behest. Your accompanying him is a pleasant surprise. But, as I said a month ago, you are most welcome here."
"I was under the impression that it was Master Xavier who requested us."
Inspector Raines gave a subtle nod to Sentinel Chalke, then took me by the arm and escorted me farther down the hallway. When we had our privacy he continued. "It was I who recommended Mr. Pitch to His Majesty. The king ordered the summons, and the Royal Seer sent the magical missive. With a matter so delicate, I knew I could use all the allies I could get. Princes don't just turn up missing, Miss Ives. There is something sinister at play, and it is my nature—my duty—to distrust."
"So you trust Gustobald Pitch? I'm not sure I've ever heard anyone say those words before."
"I'm not above admitting when I'm wrong. Left alone, I have confidence that Mr. Pitch will do what's right. That being said, things will go smoother if I'm kept in the circle. That's why it is so fortunate you're here. I would like you to liaise between us. In return, I will share what information I uncover, so long as you keep it between the three of us."
"We won't be here much longer," I said. "Gustobald says we're finished."
"He's found the killer already?"
"He says there's no killer. The prince is alive, and without a dead body, there is no need for a necromancer."
"I need you here, Miss Ives," Raines said, his brow creasing. "You must convince Mr. Pitch to stay. The two of you are the only people I can rely on. You're outsiders."
"That we are. I'll do what I can." I let out a heavy sigh just for show, knowing what Gustobald's position would be. I was happy to head back to the academy, but I might as well save face with the inspector and let Gustobald give the bad news. "It won't be easy. He never listens to me."
My point was only accentuated by the shouts coming from the Royal Seer's chamber. Sentinel Chalke gave up his watch over me to rush inside, so the inspector and I abandoned our conversation. It took but a second to size up the situation. Gustobald was removing the outer cloak of his dress robes while Master Xavier and his yellow-robed apprentice cleared the room of furniture. I rushed to Gustobald's side as he whirled the cloak at me, never once pausing in his stream of archaic insults.
"Is this the time and place for this?" I asked, pulling his cloak off my head.
"Never better!" The old man released the deathknell staff and I had to scramble to catch it before it fell.
I carried the necromancer's belongings back to the inspector, who seemed more interested than concerned. "They're about to duel," I said.
"What? To the death?" he asked.
"Not always. It depends."
"Xavier, what's the meaning of this?" Raines asked with his hands on his hips. "Let's talk this out."
"Impossible!" Master Xavier was still rolling up his sleeves. "I have never been so affronted in all of my days. To be spoken to in such a beastly manner, and by a man of no position!"
"No position?" Gustobald leaned back with a start, as if he might fall onto his back at any moment. "I'll have you for that! You hear me? I'll have you!"
"Stand down!" Sentinel Chalke moved between the two wizards to block any hostile spells. To my surprise, he pulled a second wand from his back and held his arms outstretched to cover both mages. The guard Lionell stood with his back flush to the wall, perhaps rethinking his life choices.
Raines followed Chalke's lead, clapping his hands for attention. "All right! Enough of this, else you'll both be in irons before the
sun sets. This isn't the magic city. We have laws here."
The three wizards might have lit the place up right then and there if not for the quick thinking of Xavier's apprentice, who came to the inspector's aid by taking her master's arm. Inspired by her cooperation, I stepped in front of Gustobald and pleaded with him under my breath. "We were invited to solve a murder, not to embarrass ourselves."
"We can do both!" His harsh whisper was almost a bark. "No position!"
I spun around to see the apprentice still holding her master in place. "Father," she said. "The Rule of Seven." She shot me a deliberate glance and I nodded my agreement.
"The inspector doesn't bluff," I continued. Gustobald stepped to the side, but I squared off in front of him, holding onto him as best I could with my arms full of his belongings. "Where will your honor be when you land in the Astar Hold? Call for the Rule of Seven."
Once he locked eyes with me, I saw his reason returning. "Seven days," he said, and I released him with a sigh. "Seven days, stargazer."
"Very well," Xavier answered, his voice barely constrained. "In seven days. Outside of the city. That is, unless you run back to the magic school before then. In the meantime, if you see me approaching, avoid my path. Airlea, deal with this."
At that, the Royal Seer left his own room. Sentinel Chalke didn't sheath his second wand until Xavier was out of sight. Gustobald twirled his cloak over his decorative robes and recovered his staff while I watched on in disapproval.
"What's all this about, Pitch?" Raines asked, closing the door and bolting it.
Airlea crossed her arms over her chest. "He called Master Xavier a—well, I don't know what he called him."
"A puffed up jackanapes!" Gustobald said. "And I would again. He's all that and more."
"This is getting us nowhere," Raines said. "Maybe you could tell us why you needed to be here at all." Gustobald shook his head at the crowded room, but the inspector never backed down from an interrogation. "Lionell and Chalke are two of King Eamon's finest. Miss Airlea is Master Xavier's daughter."
