by J. B. Markes
"That would be the necromancy," he said, tapping his pendant. "Speaking of which, I believe celebration is in order." He whistled and the pigeon cocked his head.
"The bond was successful," I said. "I can feel him inside my mind. It's hard to understand what he is saying. It's mainly raw emotion."
"The connection will get stronger in time. But I was referring to your newfound prowess. You obviously cast the reanimation spell in my absence. You must be proud."
"Well, you prepared the solution for me—"
"Yes." He snapped his fingers. "And it seems I've trained you well enough to speak the command word."
"Yes, Gustobald."
"I am indeed a fine teacher."
"So I've heard," I said, forcing him to choose between pride and confusion. He didn't chase me for an explanation. My bird struggled against my tightened grip, so I let him free to perch on my wrist. "Are you trying to get rid of me, Gustobald?"
"If you want to leave, I won't stop you," he said. "You've had too many close calls as of late. I can't save you."
"I don't want you to think I'm not appreciative," I said, stroking the pigeon's head. "You were right. He's a boy." I let him flutter to the floor and he pranced around, bobbing his head with each step. Every so often he stretched and flapped his wings. Finally he ruffled his feathers and began preening.
"He's a little full of himself," the necromancer said.
"Birds of a feather, maybe." I held out my arm. Come. The bird stopped what he was doing to look directly at me, so I sent the mental message again. Come. This time he flew, startling Gustobald enough to swat at the air. When he landed on my sleeve, he cooed loudly. I made the first push into his mind, but it was too soon and only served to confuse and scare him. He flapped wildly, never leaving my arm, so I took him in my hands again and rubbed his back softly until he was calm. "It's no use. He's not ready."
"Give him time," Gustobald said. "We have no other avenues at the moment, though Lord Ashdown will arrive today or tomorrow, so we'll have more information from that end."
"Did King Eamon change his mind about sending us away?" I asked, but Gustobald just scowled. "I'm starting to wonder if we shouldn't intercept Lord Ashdown on the way," I said.
"The idea did cross my mind," he said. "Treason is one way to do it. Did you enjoy your time in the Hold?"
"Okay. But do you really think they're behind this?"
"Sending a threatening message that corresponds with their arrival? Is it genius or madness?"
"There is something else," I said. "But it's probably nothing."
"Let me decide."
"When I searched Princess Meridale's chamber—that is to say, when she left me in her bedroom to go get the queen, I found a book of poetry on one of her tables."
"And the ransom note was sent in verse!" Gustobald said, looking directly at me. He waited until I nodded before mocking me. "You're right. It's nothing. There was nothing sophisticated about that ransom letter."
"It's not just that. She also has a window leading out to a balcony that connects to the inner wall of the palace. It's halfway up to the God's Eye. A climber would have half the work done for him. It would be a difficult climb, but you heard what Inspector Raines said. There are people who could manage it. She also has the resources to hire people to do the job. I know she's young—"
"She is. But the queen is not, as you so recently discovered," he said. "She's not one to be trifled with, not without solid evidence. Do us both a favor and don't mention this again."
"Gustobald."
"Dangerous ground, girl." He set his pipe on the table delicately. "Suspect who you will, but suspect only. Do not openly accuse, especially not in here. Apparently, you aren't immune to scrying anymore. We don't know who might be listening even now." He looked to the ceiling and the corners, and I couldn't help but share his paranoia.
"What do we do?" I asked.
"Take some time with your bird. Get what information you can about what he has seen. Who was the last person who sent him on a delivery? Soon we will talk to the Ashdowns."
"Do we have permission?"
"Yes," he said. "Well no, but we might soon. Eventually. Fret not, Miss Ives, we're working for a cause. We'll persevere, but don't get complacent. It'll get bad before it gets worse."
"You mean better."
"Hmm? No. Definitely worse."
"Nevermind," I said. "It's a good thing we're hanging our hopes on a pigeon."
Chapter 19
Gustobald spent the next two hours in his chair staring at the fire. He had long since exhausted his personal tobacco stores and the varieties available in the capital were not to his liking, but once he had acknowledged the necessary complaints, he put his mind to the task and that was the end of it. He wouldn't respond to my attempts at conversation, only mumbled under his breath from time to time. Sometimes it was a name or a place, but usually it was too low for me to make out.
I took to calling my bird Zephyr, a fitting name for any messenger. I didn't fault him for the ill tidings that had been his last missive. I gave him the best lunch of his life: crushed apple and walnut, but he walked across it like it was a mound of dirt. It was my own shortsightedness to blame. He wasn't hungry and never would be again. He looked as healthy as any other of his kind, which made it all the more difficult for me to settle with the fact that he no longer had a kind.
But Zephyr was a playful bird who loved attention. He was also curious to a fault. When he wasn't jumping up and down my arms he was pecking at everything in sight. Like a newborn child, he was thrust into a world that made little sense to him. A portion of my consciousness had imprinted onto his, and he was suddenly seeing his world with new eyes.
I'll never forget the moment he first saw himself in the looking glass. Many times I had seen a wild bird enthralled with its own reflection in a pool of water, or perched on a window sill giving kisses to its alter-ego trapped within the glass, but this was something different. Zephyr was preening himself, puffing his feathers and admiring his own reflection. When I appeared in the glass behind him, he turned to me and cooed, but a knock at the door startled him and brought me out of the moment.
"Ah. That would be our friend and one-time conspirator Sentinel Ruby," Gustobald said, not moving from his spot. He was right, as usual. I opened the door and Ruby took it as an invitation to enter, giving me barely enough time to step out of the way before shouldering past. She was strong and able, the same as ever.
"Nice hair, Ives," she said. "Keep trying."
"Good to see you, too," I said. "How are you holding up? I heard you just barely missed the Seeker appointment. That's too bad."
Her lip tightened into a grin as she grabbed me by the shoulder and shook me. Her grip was just enough to be painful. "You look healthy. Is that a pigeon?"
"What are you doing here?" I asked, delighted to see a familiar face.
"I heard you needed saving," she said, nodding toward Gustobald. "You want to get out of here?"
"What about Chalke?"
"He's happy to be rid of you—something about you being a rogue wizard and attacking the queen." She rested her hand reflexively on the hilt of her bladed wand. "What's that all about?"
"Can you get us into the audience with Lord Ashdown?" I asked.
"You're too late for that," she said. "It's already come and gone. The king has taken his daughter and banished him from the city. He didn't even give them a chance to speak."
"What?" I felt the sting of missing that meeting. "That makes no sense."
"This is the influence of the so-called One God at work," Gustobald said. "Their special brand of justice allows taking a daughter for a son. No doubt the king has offered to release her once Prince Jasper is safely returned? If he's returned at all."
"That's right," Ruby said quietly. "How'd you know that?"
"A guess. If King Eamon truly believes the Ashdowns are behind this," he said, rolling his eyes to inject his own opinion, "fool that
he is, it's his best strategy for getting him back."
"Can you get us in to talk to Lady Ashdown then?" I asked.
"I don't think there'd be a problem with that," Ruby said. "I'm a Sentinel. I live my life in a jail. Plus, if there's a problem, we can always just put you in the cell next to hers. Shall we?"
"Gustobald?"
"It may be our last chance for information before we are forced out of the Silver Palace," he said, grabbing his hat from the corner. "Let's make the most of it."
Though I didn't know it at the time, it was customary in those days to treat nobility according to their stations, including prisoners. A prisoner of the Crown could expect to be well-fed and given suitable quarter until such a time that her ransom was fulfilled. For more grievous accusations, like treason, such treatment was usually waived, especially if there was sufficient evidence to condemn the prisoner to death. It wasn't common to throw the daughter of an offending lord into the common dungeon, but all law begins and ends with His Majesty, and King Eamon wasn't thinking clearly.
After securing my custody from Sentinel Chalke, Ruby led us through an empty throne room so dark we had to cast light spells. With no sunlight streaming through the oculus and the stained glass windows, the only source of illumination came from the Radiant Round. The cone of light was washed out in the surrounding black, so we stayed close to the wall where our floating lights would have the greatest effect.
We followed the wall around to the eastern door, which led to the most secluded wing of the palace proper. The door was heavily reinforced, iron banded and plated, with a magical ward that would have confounded all but the most advanced transmuters. Sentinel Ruby managed the job with a simple knock. After a short explanation of our business, we were granted passage through the narrow corridor to the twin door beyond.
Eventually we came into a room with a large bureau of individual compartments. Most of the cubbies were empty, but some had papers or keys lodged inside. I didn't recognize the two sentinels on duty, but they clearly knew me. After some bickering over whether I was allowed access to the Pit, having been dismissed publicly the day before by His Majesty, Ruby eventually convinced them that I was assisting her for one last interrogation before I left the capital. They insisted on the Crown Inspector being present for any questioning.
We waited half an hour in that small space. Ruby swapped stories with the two men about life at the academy, slightly exaggerating the events that had led to her fame. I filled in the details of the Archseer's investigation where appropriate, and before long we had each gained a portion of their respect, though Ruby earned the dragon's share on account of her being a Sentinel like them.
"Ives is one tough wizard," she said. "We'll make a hand mage of her yet."
"I think that time has long passed," I said, unsurprised by her backhanded compliment. "But I'd settle for your level of skill, at least."
"Good luck," she said with a grin.
By the time Inspector Raines arrived, we were sitting in a circle, chatting and laughing like old friends—except for Gustobald, who was pacing the floor and examining the cubbies each time he passed. Raines stopped in the doorway and put his hands on his hips. "When I received their message," he said, "I told myself it couldn't Isabel Ives, because she should be on her way out of the capital by now."
"We are," Gustobald replied. "Just tying up loose ends."
The inspector gave me a level stare. "This is a mess. There are no two ways about it. I doubt we learn anything of value from Lady Ashdown. It's all right, gentlemen. I'll vouch for Miss Ives, here—and Gustobald, if I must."
"We should take Sentinel Bairns, as well," Ruby said, pointing to the mind mage, who jumped eagerly to his feet.
"I prefer to do things the old-fashioned way," Raines said. "But do come along, in case we have need."
The Pit was a fitting name for such a fallen place. The spiral staircase leading down was so steep I had to put my hand on the wall to keep from losing my balance. The inspector had the wherewithal to bring an oil lantern, but the light only accentuated the gloom. In the suffocating silence, the scuff of our footsteps seemed loud enough to belong to a group twice our number. After a few revolutions, the stairs opened into a hewn tunnel no less stuffy.
It was a grid of passageways, a large matrix of interlocking hallways with no doors. Every few steps on either side of the wall there were chains where prisoners could be kept, though none of them were occupied today. Fortunately we didn't have to look far. Lady Ashdown's cell was one of the first ones on the left, marked only by a number. It was impossible to see inside; the walls were stone and the iron door had a sliding window that was shut tight. I heard a small whimper from within when Raines fit the key to the lock and released the bar.
Before we entered, I pulled Ruby to the side and whispered in her ear. "You wouldn't happen to have an extra wand I could borrow?"
"Are you planning on attacking the girl?" she replied.
"I lost mine. And I thought since you borrowed mine once—"
"I'll never hear the end of that." She pushed me back and crossed her arms. "And no, I don't have an extra. Sorry." When I nodded and made for the door, she grabbed my elbow and pulled me back. "Are you in some kind of trouble?"
"None more than usual," I said.
"It's usually a lot." She dug into one of her pouches and removed a summoning gem. "Only if it's life-and-death, understand?"
"I don't need that."
"Take it," she said, forcing the red jewel into my palm.
"Is this a ruby?" I asked.
"No, but it should help you remember my name."
"Thanks. I'll return it once we're back at the magic school."
"Keep it," she said. "I have more. The Sentinels pay for them anyway."
Lady Ashdown's cell was dark until Raines raised the wick on his lantern. The girl was important enough to get her own room, but nevertheless was still secured to the wall with iron bands connected by a heavy bar. Her one blessing was the ruffling on her soiled dress, which allowed her to sit more comfortably than she would have on the hard stone floor.
"Unbind her, for gods' sake," Raines said, unlatching the bar to let her arms fall free before handing the door key to Sentinel Bairns. "And give her water. It's the hells in here."
"Thank you," the girl said. In the light of the inspector's lantern I could see she was in her teen years. Her once-powdered face was now marred with the erosion of past tears. She accepted Ruby's flask and drank as much as she could, then held it protectively to her chest. Even Ruby didn't have the heart to take it away from her. "Am I free?" she asked.
"I'm afraid not," Raines replied softly. "The king will keep you here until Prince Jasper returns. We might be able to strike a deal, but you must tell me what you know of his whereabouts."
"I already told the others. I don't know." Her voice was a protracted sob. "I came to the capital looking for him."
Ruby motioned for Bairns to ply his trade, and the mind mage placed his hand on her forehead. She leaned back in fear, but the spell was already cast. It was unlikely she even felt the magic take hold of her. Most wizards knew how to dupe a weak enchantment, but commoners were rarely trained to resist magic. So long as she was under its effect, she would be unable to lie.
"Are you Lady Ashdown of Northsgate?" Gustobald jumped in.
"Yes."
Every head turned to Gustobald, but he wouldn't be shamed by the likes of us. "What?" He asked. "Leave nothing to chance. Would you waste a perfectly good truth spell? Miss Ashdown—"
"Lady," I whispered.
"Miss Lady Ashdown, do you know who took Prince Jasper?"
"No. I came to Astar to find him."
"How could you be looking for him if you didn't know he was missing?" the inspector asked. "It's not common knowledge."
Lady Ashdown looked back and forth between Ruby and Raines, but found little sympathy. "We didn't know he was missing. He sent me a letter in his own hand calling off ou
r alliance. Father was enraged. We came at once to demand an explanation."
"With a sizable force," Raines said.
"Father thought it wise to show that we would not be dismissed so easily."
"Maybe the letter you received came from the prince's kidnappers," I said. "Not the prince."
"Impossible." Raines shook his head and rubbed his chin. "To reach Northsgate in time, it would have to have been sent before Prince Jasper even disappeared."
"Unlikely, then," Gustobald said. "Not impossible."
"It bore his royal seal," Lady Ashdown said. "And I know his handwriting. He wrote me once before."
"Where is this letter?" Gustobald asked.
"I gave it to His Majesty during the private audience." Her tears streaked down through the gaps in her excessive makeup. "King Eamon tore it up and made me his prisoner."
"Hold it." Raines crossed his arms over his chest before putting a hand over his mouth. I'd seen that look before, when he was evaluating my own statements during my interrogation at the magic school. He didn't trust the magic any more than he trusted human nature, but he was clearly nervous.
Bairns was sweating, weighing his duty in the light of what he had just heard. Ruby never backed down from a challenge and was all the more pleased for the added intrigue. I waited for Raines to say something inspiring, to stand up for justice in the face of gods and kings, but even the best of us falter.
"Say no more," the inspector said. "If you know what's good for you."
"What do we do?" Ruby asked. "We can't—"
"I suspect your magic must be failing, Sentinel," Gustobald said. "No matter. It happens to all of us from time to time. Perhaps we should disregard that last comment?"
"Above all else, we are agents of His Majesty," Raines said. "Our first duty is to the king."
When Bairns bobbed his head in eager support of the inspector's claim, Lady Ashdown hung her head. The shackles were off, but she was receiving her death sentence anew. The lantern flickered, allowing our shadows to dance gleefully across the cell walls.
"I'm not," I said.
"What?" Ruby was already losing patience.
