Commissioner Lisse tapped a foot on the floor as they waited, trying to conceal a growing sense of unease. Things had gone south from the moment he’d set foot in the opulent estate. Ten minutes had passed, only ten, and yet he’d been hard-pressed to ignore multiple attempts at bribery. A new record. Of all the qualities he despised in his host, chief among them had to be the other man’s naked ambition.
Lord Soran tipped a smile from across the desk.
You’d think he’d know when to call it quits.
The awkwardness that prevailed was courtesy of the final attendee expected at the private gathering somehow being late. Strange, really, considering. Lisse hadn’t counted on it or he’d have arrived later himself. With luck, she would soon arrive and the distasteful affair could be put to rest, allowing Lisse to escape the evening safely with his integrity intact.
The sound of a knock at the door came an eternity later.
“Enter,” Soran commanded.
A willowy, faded child walked into the room, offering an informal half-bow. Bruises circled the girl’s eyes, and her cheeks were surprisingly gaunt, lending her the appearance of a famine victim.
Classic signs of addiction.
“Milord, Sir. Apologies for being late.”
“Have a seat,” Soran said as he waved a hand at the girl. “Commissioner, this is my daughter, Margaret. Margaret, Commissioner Lisse.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
He held his hand out to the girl. She stared blankly a moment before offering her own in return, shaking once quickly and then jerking away from the contact as though scalded.
Perhaps she had been. Lisse noted her fingers were freezing to the touch.
“The Commissioner is here today because he requires one of your Talent, Margaret,” Soran added with a frown in the girl’s direction. “I was just informing him that it would be our pleasure to help the City Watch in any way possible.”
“Of course. How may I be of assistance, Commissioner?” asked the girl.
Lisse cleared his throat, looking from father to daughter.
“Can I assume the both of you are familiar with the Ivan Street Kidnappers?”
Soran nodded.
“Then, as you probably know, the City Watch has been dedicating most of its resources the last few months to apprehending whoever’s responsible. It’s taken a long time, I’m ashamed to say, but we’ve found our lead.”
Lisse reached into the left pocket of his coat and rummaged around until he retrieved a small, bronze button, which he raised for the pair to see. A fleur de lis marked the surface of its otherwise smooth metal. Distinctive, but nothing that could be tracked down.
“This fell from the kidnapper’s clothes during a confrontation with the Watch two weeks ago. We’ve had other professionals give it a look, but… they haven’t had much luck.”
Best not get into graphic detail, Lisse decided.
The Watch had experienced a series of bizarre mishaps with the succession of Seers it had employed. A coma here, an inexplicable illness there. Even a suicide. None of them could be tied back to the investigation in any way. Obviously, he’d had the circumstances surrounding each incident triple checked just to make sure. It was a hell of a coincidence, but a coincidence nonetheless, the mentioning of which would only be detrimental to his request.
Still, he couldn’t help but feel suspicious at the timeliness of it all.
“I suppose my son is your last resort?” Soran smirked.
The lord’s many qualities did not include being a fool.
Lisse’s heart fluttered.
“Not at all,” he insisted. “Margaret was one of the first Seers we wanted to consult. Her excellent Talent is praised throughout the city. At the time, however, we thought it best to first consult the seers we’ve worked with in the past.”
None of his men had wished to consult the corrupt politician or his serenity-addled offspring. They’d been wiser than Lisse, had seen the potential trouble attached to the Soran name and steered clear of it, leaving him stuck in their stead. Not that he blamed them. He’d have done the same if he weren’t being pressed to the wall for results.
“Incompetent!” they ridiculed in the press. “Couldn’t find the nose on his own face.” Was it any wonder Lisse had felt as if he didn’t have a choice? And so he’d taken the risk, though it was doubtful he’d have anything to show for it.
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Gods above, the Soran girl was smiling at an empty corner of the room like it held her childhood sweetheart! At this rate, he’d be lucky if she stayed lucid for the rest of this conversation, let alone completed his request. The last reserves of hope in his heart began disintegrating into bitter ashes.
Lord Soran saw the dismay flash across Lisse’s face and rapped a fist on the desk to recapture his daughter’s attention.
“Margaret! What say you?”
The girl’s smile disappeared as she focused on the copper button. Tentatively, she stretched her fingers out as if to touch it.
“May I?” she asked, and Lisse passed it to her.
The girl laid the button in the center of her palm and closed her eyes, giving Lisse a glimpse of an unhealthy pink tinge as they rolled back in their sockets. She hummed under her breath, a light, airy tune as she did whatever it is seers do, and turned to stone. A minute lapsed by. Then three more.
Her eyes shot open again without warning.
“The trail’s there. It’s old,” she cautioned, looking straight at Lisse, “and it’s thin, but I can do it.”
Soran walked over to his daughter and studied the button. Or the girl; it could have been either. The expression on his face was inscrutable.
“How much time will you require?” Lisse asked.
“Two weeks maximum.”
Lisse expelled a breath of air he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“Excellent. Two weeks would be just excellent.”
The other Seers had demanded a month each before falling to tragedies the next day. Though it was no rational cause for relief, the break in pattern inspired a surge of confidence.
Time to close the book on this farce once and for all.
“I can pay half your salary now with the rest upon completion, if that’s acceptable?”
Soran clapped his hands together.
“Oh, no, Commissioner,” said the lord. “That won’t be necessary. As I said before, we are happy to help the Watch in any way we can. Consider our services free of charge.”
A sudden surge of bile rose in Lisse's throat; he wouldn’t have believed Lord Soran capable of uttering the phrase ‘free of charge’ had he not heard it himself.
He reached for the strings of his purse.
“I could never—”
“I’m quite serious, Commissioner. The matter is settled.”
Soran gave Lisse a tight grin.
The good nobleman had a reputation for charging payment with interest where favors were concerned. He would extract his due at a later date in a far less comfortable form, Lisse feared, but there was nothing the commissioner could do about it short of throwing the coins at Soran and running away. And men and women of the Watch, especially its commissioners, never ran. Not even from story-time villains like Lord Soran.
The lord slid open a drawer in the desk. Inside was a pair of crystal wineglasses and a bottle of something that was supposed to be impressive. Lisse watched as Soran poured a generous amount into both glasses and nudged one forward.
“Can I interest you in some Sedonian red, Commissioner?”
The wine was a deep burgundy that smelt of sunshine and heaven. It must have cost more than Lisse made in three months.
He suppressed a shudder.
“No, thank you. I have to return to my post now or the office’ll be a mess by the time I get back.”
Soran’s mouth ticked into a sympathetic smile.
“Understandable. Allow me to see you to your carriage, then. A host’s duties permit no less.”
The two exited the room with the girl slouched in her chair, utterly oblivious to the world. She was swaying in the air, enjoying music plucked from the strings of her mind by that illicit temptress, serenity.
The sight did not inspire confidence in the least. Commissioner Lisse had never been devout, but his lips murmured a silent prayer to the gods as he crossed the Soran threshold regardless. Margaret Soran was his last chance. There were no alternatives left with the Talent for divination, no extra leads waiting to be investigated. Either she found the perp or he resigned.
His career rested entirely on her success.