Next on my list was to find a way to slip out of the academy. My top choice would be to find a way out through the funicular to the road, or possibly some way through the cave systems in general. I didn’t have much time. The afternoon would be wasted with another purification ceremony. It wasn’t mandatory, any more than the original one had been, but it would raise entirely too many questions if I chose not to go. I was going to have to push the limits of believability a little to get everything done in time.

On the trip back from the robe-makers, I said, “As Hero Lilianna pointed out, the most obvious suspect is once again Candidate Shanelly. While I don’t believe it is her, I think it’s worth having a longer conversation with her to see if I can learn anything new.”

“That makes sense,” replied Assistant Oxenden.

“But a formal interview in front of academy staff is just going to scare her. I’m sure you know from your own experience with teenagers that they talk more easily if they’re doing an activity at the same time.”

Assistant Oxenden nodded in agreement. It was a terrible strategy for interrogation, but a good one for a difficult conversation. It was enough truth to confuse the matter.

I asked, “If I asked Candidate Shanelly to go for a walk with me, perhaps explore the various caves, would that be permitted?”

Assistant Oxenden visibly hesitated. “I’m sure that no-one would question the morals of a Hero.”

The gender divide. I should have thought of that. Assistant Oxenden might not question my intentions, but I was quite sure ‘they’ would. In fact, I suspect that the scandalous deeds of previous and current Heroes would be discussed with great energy and glee.

> There are indeed many scurrilous accounts of various Heroes private lives. Most are simple slander, but others have some truth. No one, not even the Saints themselves, are entirely without flaw, and a Hero is subject to more scrutiny than most.

I turned to Lilianna, and asked quietly, “How are you with confined or dark spaces?”

“Fine,” said Lilianna, surprised. “I don’t have claustrophobia at all.”

I asked Assistant Oxenden, “Would having Hero Lilianna along with us be enough to ensure a lack of gossip?”

Assistant Oxenden agreed, relieved with that arrangement. I didn’t believe him, naturally. I refused to believe there was a force on any world capable of ensuring people would not gossip. But it was good enough. I just couldn’t be seen to intentionally damage a young girl’s reputation. And besides, I would soon be creating enough of a scandal to make any other concerns boring.

“Then, will this work?” I asked. “We tell Candidate Shanelly that Hero Lilianna and I wish to explore the cave systems below the old section. But to avoid the appearance of impropriety with Hero Lilianna and I being alone, we’d like her to join us. Seeing as she has no other responsibilities currently.”

Assistant Oxenden’s eyes lit up. “That is very clever.”

Not really, but I didn’t protest the undeserved praise. At least it wasn’t the kind of culture that considered such subterfuge dishonourable. I arranged the exploration to start at the location I had the most hope for – the funicular. That hope was assaulted almost immediately. Not just because we once again had to cross the bridge, with the requirement to signal and wait for the flags. I could, if necessary, go the long way around the new section and up the cliff path. It would take an additional half hour, perhaps, but it could be done. It was the series of locked doors a staff member took me through.

“It’s rather dangerous, you see,” he explained. “We had a near fatal accident with a student a few years ago. We don’t take any chances anymore.”

He went ahead and lit a few lanterns, and then waved me forward to where the carts emerged to be unpacked. I was the only one who joined him. I peered down the hole. If I had thought that the cliffs were dangerous, that was an actual nightmare. The light only went so far before being drowned into blackness, but it was enough to show the slender ropes and the jagged rocks. He showed me the series of pulleys and magical power systems that powered the train. None that I could operate from within a cart, even if I had the magical power to drive it. Not that I would have cared to trust the ropes if it had been possible. We went back, relocking the doors behind us, step by step, with my hope firmly left behind.

After that, it was just the three of us for my second-best option. We returned down the stairs to the level of the bridge and through the door on the other side of the club. We walked down a dip followed by a long slope and paused at the top as the lanterns came to life. It was as much to catch our breaths as to appreciate the beauty, but it was beautiful. The walls glittered in blues, reads and whites, and to either side of the worn path, stalagmites pressed up in columns of translucent crystals. It had that secluded, timeless quality that only deep caves possessed. Only the sounds from within the cave could be heard, the whistling of winds through invisible tunnels, the dripping of far-away water, the echoing of our footsteps. Neither the time of day, nor season of the year, affected the temperature. Every breath was the same, the warm and wet compared to outside. I wished I could capture that isolation and live within it forever.

But I had a job to pretend to do. The small talk with Candidate Shanelly lasted perhaps five minutes before I decided it was a bad strategy. Or, at least, an inconvenient strategy for me to persist with. We had nothing in common for me to gradually introduce useful conversation topics, and Candidate Shanelly was guarded. The effort was consuming the time I preferred to spend on exploration.

“You’re very clever, Candidate Shanelly,” I said, as we continued walking. “You’re aware of why we asked for you specifically to join us. I was hoping to talk to you a bit more about Candidate Bethany.”

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“I had nothing to do with her death,” said Candidate Shanelly.

“I believe you,” I said. “But I need to understand the situation fully before I can advocate for you. Do you mind helping me with a few things?”

“Yes, of course,” she said.

No, no, not ‘of course’. Never say anything without a lawyer. Honestly, what were they teaching these children?

> A ‘lawyer’ here is a shorthand for having a personal advocate in criminal matters, not intended to mean someone who formulates laws. Indeed, when under investigation, if it’s possible to consult an expert to protect yourself, consult an expert. Innocence is often the weakest of defences.

“Thank you, Candidate Shanelly,” I said. “By all reports, Candidate Bethany was awful to you. You couldn’t have looked forward to living with her full time. Why didn’t you report her for cheating?”

Candidate Shanelly said, “I know it looked bad, but it wasn’t that serious. She was… she was an angry kitten. You know, it still hurts when they scratch you, but you know it’s just because they’re scared?”

“I see,” I said, trying not to laugh at the image.

“All she really needed was to get away from her parents,” Candidate Shanelly continued earnestly. “He father hated her, and her mother smothered her. Every time they tried to ‘help’ her, they just made things worse for everyone. It might have been a rough right in the beginning, but I know that she would have gotten better. Once you got past her defensiveness, she was actually a sweet girl.”

She was speaking as if Candidate Bethany was a much younger child, rather than of being much the same age, but I did understand.

“You didn’t think you ought to reveal the cheating purely for the sake of fairness?” I asked. “Allow the girl who really did qualify to get that chance?”

“I probably should have, I suppose,” she said, a little embarrassed. “But it wasn’t my duty that failed. I didn’t even know her. She’s obviously clever. She’d have other chances. Bethany was different. As a dragon rider, she had the chance to find her own husband and make something valuable out of her life. With her problems, she was never going to succeed otherwise.”

“What do you think of the theory that you wrote the suicide note,” I asked, “and then applied magic to it to make it look like it was written by a device?”

Candidate Shanelly came to a dead halt and stared at me in amazement. “I’m good with magic,” she said, “But not that good. If I wanted to write a note that looked like it had been written by a device, I would have just used a device. I had easy access to them. Bethany didn’t lock them away or anything.”

From our investigation into Candidate Bethany’s rooms, I knew that to be true. Usually, a defence that a person could have done a better job was weak. Most criminals could have done a better job, but they didn’t. It could be laziness, panic, or pure tunnel vision in the moment, but they did stupid things all the time. I recalled a story when the conspirator was scared away by the policeman in full uniform. The criminal returned with the stolen goods, didn’t notice the substitution, and handed them directly to the policeman. But here, it was more convincing. While it was still possible that Candidate Shanelly might have simply written the note in her own handwriting, she would not have applied magic to it. If she’d noticed her mistake at all, she could have just started again, using the appropriate tools.

We walked on, past the areas large enough to turn into functional areas, and past and under and above dark tunnels and cracks that might lead anywhere or nowhere. Wooden caskets that seemed abandoned next to the path. Contraptions that loomed half-way out of the shadows. The occasional sound of a river or a waterfall, somewhere out of sight. None of the paths lead outside except the one we had come from. To get to the cave on the other side of the funicular, we’d need to take a dragon ride. Eventually, we run out of time before the ceremony and had to return. There was every chance that a route perfect for my needs existed, but I had no chance of finding it in time.

Candidate Shanelly broke away from us when we reached the dormitories, and we proceeded towards the chapel alone.

“I know personal belief is not very reliable,” said Lilianna, “but I believe her.”

“So do I,” I said. “There’s a lot more going on in this murder than just an argument between teenagers.”

I would have to find another way to leave the academy. This was a minor setback, I told myself. I had other options. I would find a way to make them work.

Memo to Self

Stuff to avoid

· Becoming a dragon rider Joining the official dragon rider forces

· Participating in bonding

Information gathering

· Find out about alternative occupations and opportunities

· - Speak to Minister Greenfield in private [not useful]

· - - Find out when he is due to leave before he leaves in four three days tonight, to fix injury

· Investigate other countries and cultures to see if they’re a better fit

· - Determine just how far heroic independence goes

· - - Legally, very far: complete diplomatic immunity

· - - Practically: assistance can be withdrawn

· Track down itinerary [no point]

· Check safety / security of funicular [useless]

Opportunities

· Sneak out when harvesting night flowers [7 6 5 days]

· - Walk out down dry river bed towards Cammions

· Deliberately failed bonding [not an option]

Preparations

· Beg, borrow or steal clothes of a different colour

· - Use investigating embroidery as excuse? [Meeting planned with artisan] [done]

· - Use grey waterproof cloak

· Delay the bonding ceremony as much as possible

· - Extend investigation

· - Imply maximum psychic pollution

· Acquire or fake travel documentation?

· Find way to transport food and water

· - Talk to House Holder Fairbanks about food [done]

· - Book a packed lunch for Monday [done]