The Palace Job (29 page)

Desidora gave the secretary a minute and a half, tops.

The
Nefkemet
robes were in a tiny folded bundle under his own robes, visible only for the aura that few people, even among the priesthood, would be able to see. The switch was obviously supposed to have taken place during that brief private moment, which the Prime had apparently been ready to allow despite centuries of established protocol. Desidora was lying about some of the rules of the Ceremony of Conferral, but not all of it.

She wondered briefly if the Prime had been bribed or was just playing politics, keeping her face serene and her aura authoritative but calm as she knelt in the middle of the room.

The secretary shifted his weight, took a few steps, then stopped and put his hands behind his back. Desidora could feel the stress pouring off him in waves. It had to be a big speech—the Archvoyant wouldn't bow to the temples unless he needed a
large
audience, as well as the hook of having his heart quite literally worn on his sleeve for all to see his sincerity.

Or at least, the illusion of sincerity. The secretary shifted his weight again, and Desidora favored him with a glare for interrupting her peaceful meditations.

The secretary glared back at her and strode to the door. "I'll be back," he muttered, spitting the words her way as he left.

Desidora let the door swing shut behind him, gave him another few seconds just for safety, and then dove into Silestin's uniform and rifled the pockets. In an inner pocket in the jacket, she found the encryption crystal, a small wand that glowed in complex swirling patterns of color.

She refolded Silestin's jacket, got back into meditation position, and raised her arms to either side. Her right hand held Silestin's crystal, scintillating and wild. Her left hand held the Prime's warding crystal, now a blank slate as the result of an aural cleansing.

She shut her eyes, opened herself to the power of death, and felt the air chill around her. She knew her skin had gone chalk-white, her hair pitch-black. Part of her hated it. A new part of her, a frightening part, didn't care.

As the power of Byn-kodar flowed through her, the blank crystal slowly began to glow.

"Bit high-strung, isn't she?" the Archvoyant observed as Tern led him toward the podium.

"I, er, I couldn't really say, sir," Tern said, getting as flustered as she could.

The Archvoyant laughed. "If you can't even say that, she must really be bad!"

Tern gave him a tiny smile. "Pm sorry she was so difficult, sir."

He edged a little closer as they walked. "Nothing I don't deal with every day," the Archvoyant said ruefully. "The Voyancy, the priests, the nobles... hell, even the banking companies make sure I know my place!"

"Yes, sir."

"I bet she makes sure you know yours, too." The Archvoyant stopped, and Tern took a few nervous steps, then hesitantly turned to look back at him. "Tell me, miss... Pm sorry, she never even told me your name."

"Laridae, sir." Icy hated it when she used that name.

"Listen, Laridae, did you wake up one morning and say to yourself, You know, I really want to be the whipping-girl for some stuck-up priestess?'" His voice was gentle, full of concern. If the Republic still had kings, he'd be a prince.

"I needed to take care of my parents," Tern stammered, "and the temple said they'd teach me to be a good scribe, provided I was willing to work for them for ten years."

"Oh, one of those deals." The Archvoyant nodded thoughtfully. "Well, Laridae, sometimes people need to move in a different direction. You seem like a talented young woman, and I think I know a few Voyants who might need a good scribe." He leaned in a bit closer. "Especially one who can be flexible."

"I..." Tern looked around, paused for one second to make sure that it looked like a tough choice, and then said, "That sounds wonderful, sir, but—"

"The thing is," the Archvoyant said, putting a companionable arm around her shoulder, "this is a very important speech, and I want everything to go right. And, well, to be honest..." And here he smiled, and
damn,
he was good. It was a great smile. "...I'm not that good at speeches. I get flustered. I forget what I wanted to say." He looked around the hallway, saw a doorway with a tiny meeting room inside. "And my secretary had my notes." He steered Tern gently toward the hallway. "Now, I would never ask you to violate the laws of the temple, but I
do
need those notes for this speech. So I'm asking you to walk a few steps down that hallway and not turn around. Can you do that for me, Laridae?" He was nodding as he asked, and Tern nodded along with him, wide-eyed. "Good." The companionable arm dropped away, and the Archvoyant stepped into the small side room. "I'll just be a moment," he said with a golden smile.

Tern obediently walked out and turned her back. A moment later, she rolled her eyes and pretended not to hear the secretary creeping down the narrow hallway behind her into the meeting room.

You couldn't con an innocent man. But fortunately, in the case of Archvoyant Silestin, that was not a problem.

The crystals crystals were nearly identical now, the shimmering glow dancing off of all the mirrors. Desidora kept the energy flowing, smoothing the flow of power on the left-hand crystal. It was getting closer. At the
Lapitemperum,
there were ancient artifacts that could do what Desidora was doing in a matter of hours. She figured she had a minute or two, if that.

Tern poked her head into the room, gave her a questioning look. Desidora gave her a quick headshake, and Tern rolled her eyes, mouthed something vile, and took off back down the hallway.

"I am concerned, Archvoyant," said Elkinsair, helping Silestin into the chameleon robe.

"Noted."

"The absence of the Prime—"

"Will be investigated." Silestin grimaced. "Thoroughly." He shrugged the new robe on, smiling as the colors swirled into patterns of sincerity, gravity, and hope. Perfect.

"The aura of the priestess troubles me as well," Elkinsair added. Silestin raised an eyebrow. "It conforms perfectly to that of a priestess of Ael-meseth. Almost
too
perfectly."

"Could be because of the Ceremony." Silestin rifled through a small set of notecards. He didn't need them—any speech worth giving was worth giving from memory—but props were important in any lie. "Have to get the most formal of the priests to do it."

"Possible," Elkinsair admitted, "but I would like to investigate further."

"Do it." Silestin turned on his smile. "I'll expect a report tomorrow morning."

"And the assistant?" Elkinsair asked.

They got to the door, and Elkinsair pushed, then frowned. He pushed harder, then glared helplessly at Silestin.

A moment later, the door opened a crack, and Laridae poked her head in, eyes wide. "I had to keep the door closed," she whispered. "There were
guards!"

Silestin smiled at Elkinsair. "I think that other matter we were discussing is under control. Good thinking, Laridae." He held up his notecards and saw her guilty smile. "Now, where do I give this speech?"

One last last flow, one tiny detail that, for a crystal attuned to the patterns of energy, meant the difference between the encryption crystal that would open the vault and a very expensive glowing paperweight. Desidora pushed, grimacing as it flowed through her. It was hateful and cold and very, very angry. The symbols of the gods were changing around all the mirrors. She knew which symbols she'd see there now, if she bothered to look. Part of her welcomed it, gloried in it.

An aura approaching in the hallway. She could sense them better when she let it in, but at such a cost. She looked to the flow. She needed one more moment.

She forced it, slammed the energy into place, then cut it off ruthlessly inside her. It hurt, forcing the change back so quickly. She could feel it pulling through her very soul as it slid back to the place it lived when she didn't call it. She sagged, momentarily breathless. The footsteps were almost to the doorway.

The crystal was there.

So was Elkinsair.

"Friends, fellow Voyants, members of the nobility and the various temples all throughout our beloved land, wizards of our proud universities, and most honored and distinguished of all, citizens of the Republic... I come before you today not as a leader, not as a politician, not as a member of the Learned Party... but as a man who loves his country.
And I praise all the gods to see that I am not alone."

The robe shone with the power of his humble belief, his awe-inspiring sincerity.

The crowd greeted Archvoyant Silestin with thunderous applause.

Elkinsair blinked as he came back into the Chamber of Conferral. The crystals were flickering faintly, and everything seemed dimmer. The haughty priestess looked pale in the dim light. He shot her a questioning look, to which she responded by stiffening her posture and pointedly ignoring him.

Elkinsair sniffed, looked at the symbols of the gods on the wall for a moment to make sure that they weren't actually moving, and settled in to wait.