Authors: Patrick Weekes
"You don't say." The Archvoyant smiled faintly.
"I also have reason to suspect that she may be operating with a member of the Voyancy to gain entry into your palace. If you'll allow me to make inquiries—"
"You vote Skilled, Justicar?" Silestin sipped his kahva.
"I don't believe that that's relevant at this stage of—"
"They were the ones who pushed for you," Silestin drawled.
Pyvic slammed a fist down on Silestin's desk, sending kahva dancing over the edge of the Archvoyant's cup. "I've overcome your political wrangling to solve this case, but even I know the chaos that would erupt if I walked in and arrested a Voyant. I'm bringing this to you first out of
respect."
Silestin cocked his head. "Are you, now? After all the chaos you've caused, you look at the political ramifications
now?
That's awfully considerate of Voyant Cevirt."
Pyvic felt the blood drain from his face. "You knew?"
"What will it look like," Silestin asked softly, "when my people bring in the Skilled Voyant plotting against me, while the Skilled-appointed justicar does nothing?"
Pyvic looked at Elkinsair, then back at the smiling Archvoyant, and dashed from the room.
Silestin glared at the corner of the room. "I thought he knew nothing."
A man-sized silhouette of utter blackness shimmered from the shadows. "He did."
"Then it'll be close." Silestin gestured. "Go. Take Elkinsair and the hunter with you."
"Pardon my interruption," said Ambassador Bi'ul from the doorway, "but I wish to help." He gestured, and a massive figure in shadow-black armor clanked into the room. "And I have support."
"Ambassador Bi'ul," said Silestin with a lazy smile, "you are a treasure."
"Voyant
Cevirt?"
Melich repeated.
"How many justicars have we got?" Pyvic asked. "Right here, within shouting distance?"
"Twenty," Melich said, still distracted, "more or less. Cevirt?"
"I need them, Captain." Pyvic leaned forward and lowered his voice, so that the entire station-house full of justicars who'd watched Pyvic dash in couldn't hear him. "Silestin wants to do it himself."
"Byn-kodar's hell." Melich stood. "You've got them." He walked past Pyvic. "All justicars with me,
now.
Grab swords and move!"
They hit the street, Pyvic and Melich and about twenty men and women, some strapping on their swords or tugging on boots.
"Seven to five, Pyvic," Melich said quietly, one hand on his own sheathed blade, which was plated and gilded and generally impressive as hell because of his captain's status. His other hand clutched the walking stick, and he limped only a little as they marched. "Seven Learned and five Skilled means that the Learned can't pass major legislation unless they compromise to get two-thirds."
"I'm familiar with the math, sir." He'd have to tell Melich about Loch at some point. It could well cost him his job.
"If Cevirt is arrested, the Archvoyant picks an interim replacement."
"Yes, it goes to eight-to-four, and then the Learned can push anything through," Pyvic muttered through gritted teeth. "Well aware of the politics, sir. That's why I went to the Archvoyant first."
"Kind of stupid in retrospect, huh?" Melich asked without looking over.
"Might have been I was concentrating on the case and not the politics, sir."
"Bully for you, Pyvic. That's a comfort."
"Perhaps you can chew my ass out after we get this settled, Captain?"
Melich's walking stick clacked with a faster cadence on the cobblestones. "Deal."
Those who weren't out on the town were having celebratory drinks in the sitting room.
"I still don't see why the boy has to go with Loch," Hessler said to Tern as he mixed his drink. Loch and Kail were off somewhere, and Ululenia was trying to get Dairy to drink something.
"Because you're with me, Hessler," Tern said, toasting him gaily with her enormous cocktail glass. "We're the ones dealing with the crystals, and Dairy will be backup for Loch."
"And I'll be there, too!" Desidora chimed in. Tern glared and began flicking her expensive mechanical lighter. Desidora's wineglass briefly grew a skull, then shifted back to normal.
"Why can't he stay here in Cevirt's palace?" Hessler asked plaintively. "There's no logical
reason
for him to come to the party!"
"First, we might need a distraction," Tern said.
"Second, he provides a cunning camouflage for Loch as a simple attendant," Ululenia added, holding the drink up to the blushing boy's lips.
"And third, Loch insisted," Desidora finished, smiling winsomely, "and it's her job. Relax, Magister. The boy will be fine."
It wasn't as though Hessler cared about that kid. He was barely old enough to shave, and had far too much youthful idealism. If he screwed up, they could
all
get caught. It was really just enlightened self-preservation.
"I think we'd
all
be safer if he stayed behind," Hessler tried. "The kid always seems to press the wrong button or say the wrong thing..."
As if on cue, Dairy gagged on Ululenia's drink and spat it out in a great spray that crossed the tiny flame playing on Tern's lighter. The liquid ignited in a flaring arc of blue fire, missing Hessler by inches and setting fire to the drapes, the sofa, and Hessler's drink, which promptly exploded in a
second
gout of blue fire and set fire to the carpet.
"Case in point!" Hessler added acidly while Tern screamed and started stomping on the flaming carpet. Ululenia gestured, horn flaring, and fluffy white clouds near the ceiling began to shower the room with a gentle spring rain.
In a few short moments, everything was extinguished but wet and smoky. Cevirt himself arrived and offered some caustic commentary. Dairy, still coughing, apologized profusely, and Hessler observed that nothing would have happened had Tern not been playing with her lighter, which then made Tern glare at Hessler in the manner previously reserved for Desidora, who was laughing lightly and apparently unconcerned by the effect that a sudden spring rain had on her thin robes.
Ululenia shifted into her unicorn form and nuzzled Dairy aboard, and the two headed off to get something to make Dairy feel better. Desidora went with them at Tern's insistence, given that the unicorn had tried to get the poor kid drunk once already, and also given that Desidora's robes were
very
wet. Cevirt left to search for more towels.
"Well,
that
was a disaster," Hessler muttered, upending a wineglass to dump out the rainwater.
"Oh, I don't know," said Tern, the only other person in the room. She gave Hessler a sunny smile. "You and I finally have a chance to talk!"
Hessler squinted. "About what?"
Tern rolled her eyes and tugged at her sodden brown dress, which now clung to her tightly and outlined all the illegal things she had in her pockets. "Hey, Hessler, maybe you could help me out of these wet cl—"
She was interrupted by the great crash of the grand door of the palace bursting open.
Melich had used his captain's authorization to open the palace gates, but otherwise, it was Pyvic's show.
While Cevirt's palace was a pale shadow of the opulent masterpiece that was Silestin's, it still shouted wealth and taste and old magic. The walls were bedecked with fluted elven vases and priceless dwarven statues and rare fairy paintings that shimmered and glowed in little dances of color. The stairway to the second floor was lit by sparkling crystals set into the railing, and a magical chandelier cast a golden radiance across the hall.
Smoke poured from the sitting room off to the left, and as Pyvic headed that way, Voyant Cevirt, sopping wet, came around the corner. "What the hell is going on here? Who are you?" he asked with angry surprise.
"Justicar Pyvic of the Heaven's Spire Department of Justice," Pyvic said loudly as the others gathered behind him. "Your pardon, Voyant Cevirt, but we need to search the premises."
"My palace is of course open for you to search," Cevirt said smoothly. "But may I ask if you have a warrant, and what you hope to find?
Pyvic saw his chance, took it. "We have information suggesting that a group of criminals has been hiding in your palace, Voyant."
Cevirt gritted his teeth for just a moment, a barely perceptible tightening across the jaw. "I have not
knowingly
sheltered any criminals," he said in a cautious tone, as Pyvic gave him a tiny nod, "and in fact, I have no guests at the moment. Should you discover anyone, they—"
"Are your accomplices," finished Elkinsair, Silestin's oily little secretary, as he glided through the open main doors, his fussy robes barely moving at his feet. He was flanked by two hulking armored figures. One wore shining golden ringmail, a vibrant green cloak, and a long golden helmet that tapered to a point behind him like a teardrop. The other, even taller, wore an absurd suit of spiked black armor with a demon-themed helmet, complete with glowing red eyes. Behind them, Ambassador Bi'ul sauntered in, smiling faintly.
"I protest these groundless accusations," Cevirt said without changing expression. "I am cooperating fully with an ongoing investigation —"
"Byn-kodar take this little
Uru,"
rasped the figure in the spiky black armor, his metallic voice somehow familiar, and then he stepped past Pyvic and backhanded Cevirt across the room. "We know they're here!
Loch, you can't run forever! I'm coming for your
And then Captain Melich was there, his walking stick clattering to the ground as he put himself in front of the armored figure. "As Captain of the justicars for Heaven's Spire, I am
ordering
you to—"
A knife rippled into view as it sank neatly between the captain's ribs, and he stumbled back from the shadowy figure that was already fading out of sight again. Without hesitation, the black-armored man slammed Melich to the ground with a punch that sent blood spraying.
"No!" Pyvic shouted, his own voice lost in the din of justicars yelling and drawing their weapons.
Cevirt, still on the ground with blood oozing from his shoulder, pulled a crystal wand from the pocket of his robes. "Not in my house, you bastard," he muttered, and activated the wand.
And any chance for a peaceful resolution went to hell as gem-studded security golems burst into the entry hall with crystal swords raised.