Chapter Twenty
Marie
“Your presence has been requested in the sitting room, Miss Marie,” said Ivan. “It seems Mage Beaty has arrived.”
“Thank you, Ivan,” said Marie, setting aside the dress she was ironing. Jana looked up sharply from across the table where she was working on some mending.
“Mage Beaty? The Mereologist? Why would he be asking for Marie?”
Marie untied her apron and ensured her mage’s brooch was straight. “He’s here to ask Lady Ona a few questions. Whenever a shade gives legal testimony a qualified mage needs to be present to record their responses.”
Jana furrowed her brow. “Lady Ona? Why is it-” she stopped short. “Sorry, why is she giving testimony?”
Marie smiled. Jana was trying, but she had told Marie that she was raised in a household that didn’t believe shades were real, so she was having a hard time changing her way of thinking. “She’s the one who discovered Mr. Boris’ body. Hadn’t you heard?”
Jana shook her head. “She was there?”
“She often wanders at night. Most shades do since they don’t sleep.”
“I saw Alec that night. He was very drunk and had just gotten into a fight.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “He was talking to an empty seat and I thought he was just talking to himself, you know like drunks do sometimes, but could he have been talking to Lady Ona instead?”
Marie shook her head. “I doubt it. She’d never go into a bar.” She repressed a sigh. Even as she said the words she knew Jana was probably right, but it would not be good if word got out that Ona was frequenting such low establishments. “I have not had much occasion to acquaint myself with drunkards, but he was probably just talking to himself, as you suspected. You may still want to talk with Mr. Beaty and let him know what you saw.”
Jana nodded and eyed Marie’s brooch. “What’s it like, talking to shades?”
“It’s no different than me talking to you right now, for the most part. Usually, it just means I have to work twice as hard, like today,” Marie smiled, trying to act humble for her companion’s sake. If she was being perfectly honest she often considered herself a Mereologist first and a maid second. She hadn’t gone to school for ten years and won a hard-fought academic battle against Kelso just to spend the rest of her life as a domestic, even if she had chosen the position herself. The truth was that she didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life. She loved runes, but there wasn’t much of a career in runecraft unless she became an Academy professor. If she did that, though, then she wouldn’t get to travel all over the Empire and see exciting new places. Maybe she could become an archaeologist and search out ancient runes like the ones all over Clement or the ancient Walled Cities. The Lequettes could be her benefactors, she was certain. At least Lady Alba would be. She folded her white apron and placed it on the ironing table. “How’s my hair?” she asked Jana. It was pulled into the usual tight bun she wore for work.
“Here,” said Jana, standing up and walking around the table. She reached out to Marie’s head and smoothed down a few stray strands. “That’s better.”
“Thanks,” said Marie, picking up the two notebooks she had brought with her. One was her mage’s notebook made with special paper designed for runescribing, and the other was a plain notebook she would make the meeting notes in. She turned to leave but Jana stopped her.
“Didn’t you say that you and Lady Ona were friends? That must be so strange.” Marie just shrugged her shoulders. It wasn’t strange to her at all. It just was what it was. “Will you be able to stay neutral during the questioning?” asked Jana.
“It won’t be hard. I’m just recording her answers. Besides, my mind can easily separate fact from my own personal bias.” It was one of the benefits of her mereology.
“I just can’t believe Alec would do something like that,” Jana said. “I always considered him a ruffian, but I never thought he could be capable of murder.”
“We don’t know that he did,” said Marie, looking towards the staircase that led upstairs. “That’s what Mr. Beaty is trying to find out.”
“I don’t see how it could have been anyone else,” said Jana. “They found him covered in Boris’ blood, and it was his knife that was used, he even admitted it.”
“How do you know that?” asked Marie. She hadn’t been told anything about what Alec had said that night. Even Ona had been uncharacteristically quiet about it.
“Clement is a small place,” Jana said with a shrug. “People talk, especially when something like this happens. Although no one mentioned the shade’s involvement.”
“It’s likely no one knows,” said Marie, ignoring Jana’s unintentional slight against Ona. “It’s not like anyone else could have seen her. Speaking of which, I need to get upstairs, they’re waiting for me.”
“Of course,” said Jana, picking up the iron Marie had been using. “I’ll finish this for you.”
“You don’t have to do that,” said Marie, surprised.
“It’s ok,” said Jana. “There’s no need for you to work twice as hard today, I can help.”
Marie smiled her thanks and headed up the staircase. The castle was older than the Empire, and many of the corridors and staircases were narrow and dark, even in the middle of the day. She stumbled on a step and decided to put inscribing some more runelights for the estate at the top of her list of things to do while she was there. Lady Alba could present them as a thank-you gift. Here I am, making more work for myself, she thought with a shake of her head. Maybe she was just a workaholic. She reached the top and slipped through the servant’s door then crossed the large - and very bleak - entrance hall. She knocked twice on the door to the sitting room before opening it and stepping in with a curtsy.
“You called for me, my Lady?”
Lady Alba was sitting in her wheelchair with her left leg propped up on its rest. The old Healer had inspected her knee that morning and said that it was coming along nicely, though it would need to remain as immobile as possible for a few more weeks at least. He had praised Marie’s care, particularly her pain-relieving runes, and said that if all his patients had nurses like her then his job would be immensely easier. Before he left he had pulled her aside and asked her if she was interested in studying to be a nurse. Marie declined, saying that she was her lady’s devoted servant, but she had to admit the idea had its appeal.
Lord and Lady Matvei were sitting on the sofa across from Alba, and Ona was floating next to her sister, looking much more subdued than usual. In a large upholstered armchair set between the two sofas was a middle-aged man dressed in a simple, yet tidy, gray pinstripe business suit. He wore spectacles, which were a relatively new invention that Marie had only seen once or twice before, and his black hair was well-greased and impeccably combed. This had to be Mr. Beaty.
“Marie, this is Mr. Thomas Beaty, Clement’s resident Mereologist. He will be leading the investigation,” said Alba. “Mage Beaty, this is Marie, my lady’s maid and an accomplished Mereologist in her own right.”
“I’m sure she is,” said Mr. Beaty, pushing his spectacles up his nose and barely sparing her a glance. “Please, take a seat, Mage Marie. I am quite busy and would like to get on with this as soon as possible.” His voice was smooth and calm — almost condescending, in Marie’s opinion.
She curtsied and hurried over to the writing desk that had been prepared for her. It was on the wall near a window, which provided good light for writing, but was a little further away from the other occupants than Marie would have liked. It made her feel as if she wasn’t really a part of the conversation. She shook off that thought and opened her notebook. Her reason for being there was to ensure that Ona’s testimony was accurately recorded, not to participate in the conversation. Marie pulled out a pen and ink, then nodded that she was ready to begin. Investigators were rarely mages, and whenever a shade gave testimony it was required that a mage also be present to record their statements. In this case Mr. Beaty was, of course, able to hear Ona’s testimony for himself, but the crime was serious enough that it was best to have another mage take the official notes, to avoid the appearance of the investigator tampering with the evidence. Until recently, a shade’s testimony hadn’t been admissible as evidence, and unless the law was followed very carefully many judges would still not allow it. After all, they argued, how could the testimony of a dead person hold any weight?
Mr. Beaty pulled a small pencil and notebook from inside his jacket and flipped it open, then looked at Ona. “Thank you for taking the time to talk with me today, Lady Ona,” he began, his voice taking on a far more polite tone than he had used with Marie. “I regret that we had to meet for the first time under such unpleasant circumstances. I will try to make this as expedient as possible, as I have no wish to upset you any further.”
Marie wrote furiously, trying to capture every word with her shorthand. She was glad she had her mereology to help with her recollection. Across the room, Ona nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Beaty,” she said.
“Please tell me what you saw the other night. Even small details can be important, so try to be as specific as possible.”
Ona was quiet for a minute as she thought and Marie was grateful for the chance to catch up with her notes.
“I was out exploring the town, as I often do at night,” Ona began softly. She was looking at the floor. “We — shades, that is — never sleep, you know, and the nights can get pretty boring, so having a new place to explore was a welcome change. Shortly before sunrise I saw a light coming from an alleyway and went to investigate it. I found Mage Alec laying on the ground, covered in…” she hesitated. “Well,” she continued after a moment. “At first I didn’t notice anything wrong. I was just happy to see someone I recognized. We had met earlier that day and I enjoyed his company. He had turned on a small runelight, but turned it off as soon as he heard me calling to him. It didn’t matter, because I could still see everything perfectly since I’m… well… you know. I can see perfectly in the dark. He was covered in…” she hesitated again. “There was vomit on the ground beside him, and a lot of blood. That’s when I saw the body behind him. I panicked and used the Bond to come back to Alba and told her what I saw.”
Mr. Beaty made a few notes in his pad and Marie hurriedly finished her own, hoping she got it all down accurately. “Did Mage Alec say anything to you?” Mr. Beaty asked after a few moments.
Ona nodded. “I didn’t want to believe what I saw, so I asked him if he had been attacked. He said he didn’t know.”
Mr. Beaty nodded and jotted down a few more notes. “I understand you had only just arrived that same day, but I must still ask. Did you recognize the victim?”
Ona hesitated, she seemed to struggle with the question, which confused Marie for a moment until she realized why. Jana had been right. Ona had been in the bar earlier that night but didn’t want to admit it. Eventually, she nodded without a word, looking at the floor. Alba looked at her, confused.
“What is it?” asked Lady Alyona. From where she was sitting Marie couldn’t see the Matvie’s faces.
“Please, Lady Alyona,” said Mr. Beaty. “I know this must be difficult as you cannot hear Lady Ona’s responses, but I must ask you not to interrupt. When had you seen Mr. Boris before, my Lady?”
Ona’s reply was too soft for Marie to hear.
“Can you repeat that my Lady?” asked Mr. Beaty. “I’m afraid I didn’t hear you.”
“I visited the bar earlier. I saw him then.”
Mr. Beaty nodded and wrote in his book. Alba looked horrified. “You didn’t…” she said, aghast.
“Lady Mage,” said Mr. Beaty sounding exasperated. “The bar is a public building. It is not illegal for Lady Ona to go there.” He looked at Ona and pushed his spectacles up again. It seemed like they liked to slip a lot. “When you saw Mr. Boris earlier in the evening, had he been doing anything unusual?”
Ona nodded. “He and Alec had gotten into a fight. I only arrived a minute before it started. I heard a commotion and looked just in time to see Boris hit Alec with a chair and then kick him a few times while he was on the floor. Some big men pulled him away and threw him out of the bar. Alec and I talked for a while after that.”
“What did you talk about?”
“Just stuff,” Ona said. “I teased him a bit for getting beat up and then we talked a little about social issues and religion. Nothing important. He didn’t seem like he was mad at Boris. He acted like getting beat up was just a normal part of the night.”
Alba scoffed. “I’m sure it is, for him.”
Mr. Beaty glared at her but did not chastise her as he had Lady Alyona. He cleared his throat and glanced at his notes. “You said you saw a light and that’s what drew your attention,” he said, peeking over the rim of his spectacles at Ona. “The runelight we found on Mage Alec wouldn’t be very bright. Are you certain that’s what drew your attention?”
Ona hesitated again and Marie could tell that she was struggling. After a few moments Mr. Beaty urged her on. “Please, my Lady. I need an answer.”
“We can’t talk about it,” Ona mumbled. “It’s taboo.”
“We?” Mr. Beaty asked. “You can’t talk about what? This is a criminal investigation. You must answer my questions.”
Alba began to protest but Ona stopped her with a wave of her hand. She took a deep breath and Marie found herself wondering why she needed to do that. Shades didn’t have lungs. Was it actually necessary? Did she need air to speak as living people did, or was it just a copied behavior; something she had done in life that carried over to her existence as a shade?
“When someone dies,” Ona began, her voice wavering. “We – shades that is – we can see them take their final journey.” Ona paused and clutched at her chest. She took some more deep breaths. It seemed like she was in a lot of pain and it took all of Marie’s self-control not to jump up and run to help her friend. She had always been taught that shades didn’t feel pain, or anything else, for that matter. Marie knew that was wrong in some instances. According to Ona, she could feel - or at least sense - some wards and powerful runes. It seemed there were other cases where that was wrong as well. “They go up into the sky as a shaft of light,” Ona continued after a moment, bringing Marie back into the moment. Ona still seemed to be struggling but had managed to compose herself. “It’s… not something we’re supposed to talk about.” She looked at Alba, the pain in her eyes was clear. “To anyone.”
“Yes,” Mr. Beaty said, making some notes in his book. He wasn’t even looking at Ona, which irritated Marie. “I have heard that. Though I have never been able to confirm it directly from a shade. Thank you for clarifying that point, Lady Ona.”
Ona nodded, looking away from Alba who had placed a hand over her mouth. Marie found herself thinking back to the massacre at the party. How many shafts of light had Ona seen that night? It must have been horrible for her. But then again, it had been a horrible night for all of them.
“Mr. Beaty,” said Alba quietly, keeping her eyes on Ona. “I believe that will be enough for today.”
“My Lady,” he said, finally looking up from his notebook. “With respect. I am not finished.”
Alba looked away from Ona, who was still turned away from them, and glared at Mr. Beaty with fire in her eyes. “And I say you are. Clearly, this topic is upsetting my sister, can’t you see that?”
“We are talking about a murder,” Mr. Beaty said, his voice cool. “I expected it would be upsetting. I believe I said as much when we first began.”
“You are forcing someone to discuss subjects that are culturally taboo,” said Alba, her voice growing stronger. “I believe there are laws against such actions and I fail to see how this is pertinent to the case. You should have what you need. If you have any further questions, you may ask them by messenger. You are dismissed.”
“In a criminal investigation not even you, Lady Mage, have the authority to tell me what to do,” said Mr. Beaty, turning red. “Lady Ona is, forgive my bluntness, dead, and as such has no right of protection under the law, except against exhumation of her corpse, which, clearly, I am not doing.” Marie watched in shock, her notepad forgotten. She couldn’t believe Mr. Beaty was so uncouth as to bring up Ona’s dead body right in front of her.
Alba’s face turned bright red. “If you would care to file a complaint with my father, or even King Aarmond, you are more than welcome to,” said Alba, keeping her eyes fixed on his. “I will be sure to let the King know what to expect when I next correspond with him. In the meantime you will leave. Now! Or I shall have our guards throw you out.”
Mr. Beaty’s mouth grew hard for a moment, then he sighed and stood, placing his notepad back into his jacket pocket and bowing curtly. “Of course, Lady Mage Lequette,” he said with obvious effort. Alba watched with her head held as high as she could, somehow managing to make her wheelchair look as regal as a queen’s throne. That, Marie thought, was a quality she could never possess even with a hundred years of training. That was true nobility. Mr. Beaty stood and turned on his heel without so much as a glance in Ona’s direction. Marie quickly gathered her notes, looking them over to ensure she had gotten the important parts. Fortunately, it seemed she had. She stood up and held them out as he strode past. He snatched the papers from her hand without pausing or even looking at her. Lukas was waiting outside and handed him his top hat and walking stick. The door closed heavily behind him.
“I never cared much for that man,” said Lord Matvie, shaking his head. “Unpleasant fellow, though he does make himself annoyingly useful. You shall not see him in this house again, my Ladies.”
“Is Lady Ona alright?” asked Lady Alyona.
Alba turned her attention back to Ona. Marie couldn’t tell for sure, but it looked like she was crying. “I’m afraid I must ask for some privacy,” said Alba.
“Of course,” said Lord Matvie. “Come along dear,” he said, standing up. Marie opened the door and stood aside, curtsying as they passed. She began to leave the room herself when Ona spoke up.
“You can stay, Marie. I’ll be ok.”
“Are you certain?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Ona, looking up and wiping away silver tears. Why must something like tears be so beautiful? Marie wondered. It was a sight she had seen far too often on Ona’s face.
“I can’t believe the nerve of that man,” Alba said as Marie crossed the room and stood beside Alba’s chair. Her noble bearing was gone now, and she was simply Alba again. “Can you really tell when someone takes the final journey?”
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Ona nodded. “There are some things we just can’t speak of to the living.” The way Ona said “we” and “the living” sent a chill up Marie’s spine. It meant Ona was starting to see herself as existing separately from Marie and Alba. It was true, but Marie didn’t want to admit it. “Talking to that man was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do since becoming a shade,” continued Ona. “It felt like I was ripping my heart out of my chest.” Marie thought that was a strange analogy for Ona to choose, considering what she had just said about “the living”.
She thought back to the night of the massacre and all the shafts of light Ona must have seen. She wondered what it was like when a twin who was bonded to a shade passed away. Were there two shafts? One for each of them? Or did the shade simply fade away? It was a very intriguing question and one she had to push aside with great effort. Such things could wait for a more appropriate time. Another thought occurred to Marie at that moment. “Lady Alba?” she said. Alba looked up at her. “Have you ever lit a runelight?”
“A few times, in class. Why?”
“Did you find it easy?”
“Of course not. That’s why mereologists deal with runes, they’re hard for twins to use.”
“Exactly,” Marie said, the question growing in her mind. Alba and Ona both looked at her curiously. “Mage Alec said he didn’t know if Boris attacked him, right?”
“Yeah,” said Ona. “Because he was too drunk to remember.”
“But you saw Boris’ final journey only a few moments before you found them, right?” Ona nodded and Marie continued: “If Alec was so inebriated that he couldn’t remember something that happened only a few minutes back, how could he have the mental capacity to do something as difficult as activating a runelight?”
“I don’t know,” said Ona. “He’s older than us. Maybe he’s had more practice? What does it matter? He’s guilty. I saw it myself.”
“Maybe,” said Marie. “I think I want to talk to him, though.”
“Why?” asked Alba. “Mr. Beaty has already interrogated him. He can tell us what he said.”
Marie shook her head. “I want to see him myself.” She looked up at Ona, whose eyes were still wet from the tears. “I want to learn exactly why he caused my best friend so much pain.”
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A few hours later, after Marie helped Alba settle back down in her room and refreshed the pain runes, she was making her way down the winding cobblestone streets of Clement toward the constable’s office where Alec was being held. She was wearing her thickest dress with her mage’s brooch pinned above her left breast as required when in public. She wore long leggings underneath the dress and wrapped a wool shawl she borrowed from Jana around her shoulders to ward off the cold wind that had suddenly blown in from the north. She had heard that in the mountains the weather could change with barely a moment’s notice, but she had never appreciated what that meant until now. The morning had been chilly but clear, despite the mist that hung persistently in the air from the numerous waterfalls around the valley. She clutched her satchel to her side, protecting it from the wind that seemed to want to rip it from her grasp and carry it away. Both her notebooks were tucked safely within – as was the mage’s gun Lady Marta had given her. She had taken to carrying it in her satchel instead of tucked behind her apron. She rarely went anywhere without the satchel anyway, since it held her runescribing supplies. She spared a glance at Ona, who was floating alongside her, looking at their surroundings and not bothered by the wind in the slightest. It wasn’t even making her clothes flutter. Blasted shades, she thought bitterly as the wind whipped her hair out of its bun and slapped it into her face.
Alba had been reluctant to let Marie question Alec. She had already pressed the limits of her authority when she sent Mr. Beaty away and she was fairly certain he would not appreciate it if Marie began investigating the murder behind his back. Alba was probably right about that, but the issue of the runelight nagged at Marie, and she wanted to hear the answers for herself. In the end, Alba admitted to feeling the same. Neither of them was happy about Ona tagging along, but nothing short of using the Bond could stop her from coming, and Alba was not about to do that again anytime soon.
Marie understood Ona’s excitement for exploring though. The mixture of old architecture and new construction that could be seen all throughout Clement was fascinating. Almost everywhere she looked she could see where new buildings had been built on the foundations of those that came before them. Sturdy homes made of stacked stone sat beside newer buildings of wood and thatch. Ancient runes could be seen carved into stone at almost every corner, many of them so faded and worn that she almost couldn’t find them. In most cases when she brushed them with her fingers she could feel only a glimmer of their former essence. Ona told her that most of them were glowing so faintly that she could barely see them. Marie wanted to recharge some but decided that Mr. Beaty would not appreciate her interference. She was already pushing it as it was. Besides, she had no idea what most of them were for. The script - when she could even read it - was ancient and unrecognizable to her, coming from a time long before Barosian became the standard script for runes.
The constable’s office was about a quarter-mile down the road, well within Ona’s limits. As they approached, Marie noted that it was a rather odd building. The front looked like many of the other buildings in Clement; wood built atop the stone ruins of an older building. It seemed that only the front half of the old structure had collapsed, however, and the rear half of the building was still made of stone. That was probably why it was used as the local prison. Stone was much harder to break out of than wood.
“Do you see any runes?” Marie asked as she approached the front door, glad to get some relief from the biting wind.
“Not yet,” said Ona. “Nothing that would keep me out, at least.”
“Good. I’m going to pretend I’m alone. I don’t want to worry the constable.”
“And why should my presence concern him?” asked Ona, sounding offended. Marie turned and saw a mischievous smile on her friend’s face.
“Just stay with me,” Marie said. “I don’t want you bothering Alec before I get there.”
“Fine,” Alba said. “I’m not exactly eager to see him again anyway.”
Marie paused with her hand on the door handle. “Then why did you come?”
“Because…” she hugged herself. “I don’t know. I just want to hear what he has to say, now that he’s sober. I need to know.”
“You might not like it. In fact, you probably won’t. Still sure you want to come in?”
Ona thought for a moment then nodded. Marie nodded back and pushed the door open. The inside of the constable’s office was cozier than Marie had expected. The points where the wood met stone were expertly joined, the stone cut smooth and grooved to allow the wood to sit upon it with no gaps. An iron stove sat in one corner, warming the room and a kettle of water at the same time. A single heavy door led to the back of the building, where the prisoners were supposedly kept. She studied the door for a moment looking for signs of runework. She did not see any. Ona passed through the wall beside her and looked around as well.
“No wards,” she said, not bothering to keep her voice down. Marie cringed slightly and had to remind herself that no one else could hear Ona. That was still hard to get used to. During their time at the Academy, everyone could see and talk to Shades. Even at the palace, a good quarter of the residents could see them. Here in Clement, it was just her, Alba, and a few others, one of whom was a good-for-nothing drunkard and, probably, a murderer.
A sturdy-looking man in a crisp uniform sat at a desk near the stove, reviewing some paperwork. He looked up when he heard the door and stood when he saw Marie walking in.
“Good afternoon, ma’am,” he said, taking his cap off. “How may I help you?”
“Good afternoon, Constable,” said Marie, pulling her hair out of her face now that the wind was no longer whipping it about. She would have to twist it back into a bun as soon as was appropriate. She straightened Jana’s shawl and smoothed down her dress. The wind had really made a mess of things and she felt far from dignified. “I am Mage Marie, Lady Mage Alba Lequette’s personal maid.” She tried to sound as confident as possible to counter the impression of her rumpled appearance. Ona drifted over to the desk and began reading the papers the constable had been reviewing. “I have come on her behalf to question the prisoner, Mage Alec,” Marie continued, trying not to watch Ona.
The constable bowed, obviously not realizing that they were technically of the same social standing. There was a good chance that he was even higher than her, assuming he was not also an orphan. He never took his eyes off her silver mage’s brooch as he completed the bow, though. The thing did have its advantages.
“Please,” Marie said. “There is no need to bow, my Lady is not present.”
“Of course, ma’am… I mean Mage… uh…”
“Marie,” she reminded him.
“Yes. Uh… Mage Marie. I am, of course, happy to assist you and your Lady in any way I can. However… in this particular matter, I’m afraid my hands are tied. Mage Beaty has already questioned the prisoner, and his investigation is still ongoing. Commander Yuri has ordered that he is to have no other visitors. Besides… I wouldn’t feel right letting a lovely lady such as yourself see such a place. A prison is, well, a prison. It is no place for gentle hearts.” Ona had moved on from the desk and was examining the stove, bending over and putting her head into the firebox. Marie tried to keep her focus on the constable.
“My heart is stern enough for this, I assure you,” she said, fixing his eyes with hers and hoping she was doing a better job of convincing him than she was herself. “My Lady will not be pleased if I am forced to return without the information she seeks. If she has to come here personally, in this weather and with her injury, she will not be in an accommodating mood by the time she arrives.”
The constable paled slightly. Marie had a hard time imagining this man breaking up drunken brawls or dealing with hardened thieves. Just a few words from her and he was melting like a cheap candle. “Now, there’s no need for that ma’am – I mean Mage – I’m sure it’ll be fine for you to see him, as long as I’m there to ensure your safety.”
“I must be alone with him,” Marie said.
The poor man slumped his shoulders. “Now ma’am, please be reasonable. This man is a murderer and a mage. ‘Tisn’t safe for you to be alone with him.”
“And it’s safe for you? He is a mage, as you pointed out. Well, it just so happens that I am as well. Are you?” Ona drifted back over to her side and snickered.
“Well, of course not. But I am a man and a constable of the law.” He stood up straight and regained some of his composure. “It’s my duty to protect you.”
“And you are doing a fine job of it, Constable. I will be safe, I assure you. The prisoner is locked in his cell, yes? And this door is the only way in or out?” The constable nodded. “Then there is nothing to worry about.” She looked at him pointedly. “This is a matter for mages, Constable.”
He looked at her brooch again, then nodded. “Very well,” he said with a sigh. “But I’m leaving the door open so I can hear if you yell.”
“That’s fine,” Marie said. She would have rather had complete privacy, she didn’t know how Alec would react to what she had planned. “But only come if I specifically ask for help. The prisoner may get loud and belligerent.”
The constable nodded as he fished the keys from his pocket and opened the door for her. “He’s the only one we got in there today, ma’am. Clement is usually a pretty quiet place.”
Marie smiled at the constable as she passed the threshold of the door. She was met with a hallway, not very long, but dark and unpleasant looking all the same. A few cell doors with small barred windows were set on either side of the hallway. The air was cold and musty, with a hint of feces and vomit mixed in. The wind blew hard outside and whistled through the cracks in the cold stone walls. This part of the building was not nearly as cozy as the front was. Marie blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the dark. The corridor was lit by only a few candle sconces on the walls. Nobody in Clement seemed to have runelights — except for Alec. Most twins weren’t in the habit of carrying runestones, yet Alec had some in his pockets. Even Marie only had a handful in her satchel.
“He’s in the cell at the end,” said the constable from behind her. “It’s the most secure one we got. Don’t rightly know how strong his magic is, but Mr. Beaty said that cell would suffice.”
Ona entered the hallway, passing through one of the cell walls a few paces ahead of Marie. “It’s disgusting in there,” she said, brushing off her dress as if some of the filth had somehow stuck to it.
“Thank you, Constable,” said Marie, nodding at him. “I will be fine from here.”
The constable hesitated for a moment, then nodded and returned to his desk, eyeing her with concern. Marie took a few steps into the darkened hallway and, as soon as she was fairly certain the constable couldn’t see her, twisted her hair back into its customary bun. It wasn’t proper for a man to see a woman fixing her hair, after all. She opened her satchel and double-checked her notebooks. The mage’s gun sat there too, black and menacing, reminding her of the dangers of the world and that she – no matter how much she wished otherwise – was part of that world. She shuddered, suddenly wishing she had taken the time to practice with it at least once. She had no clue how to use the awful thing, or what exactly it did when fired. She had studied the runes a few times and copied them down into her notebook, but she dared not give them any of her essence for fear of accidentally activating it. She quickly shut the flap, hiding the contents of the satchel once more.
She took a deep, nervous breath. She had never done anything like this, barging her way into prison and confronting a suspected murderer. Part of her had hoped that they wouldn’t get this far. “Well,” she said to Ona. “I guess this is it. Are you certain you want to be here?”
“No,” said Ona. “But I need to be.”
Marie nodded. She felt much the same. She walked down the short corridor with Ona floating by her side. It was comforting to have Ona with her, insubstantial though she was. At the end of the hall there was one cell with a door facing down the corridor. Ona floated ahead and studied it for a moment.
“There's a ward on the lock,” she said. “It’s red.”
“Probably to keep him from using his Skill on it,” Marie said, squinting at the lock in the dim light. “He’s telekinetic, right?” A small series of runes had been inscribed there recently, the metal still shining cleanly where it had been scratched. The runes were Barosian. On’mela’ak’latat. A fairly standard anti-Skill ward. Not very precise or efficient, but effective. The biggest problem Marie had with it was that it needed to be recharged daily, more often if it was crudely done, as this one was. Runescribing was obviously not Mage Beaty’s strongest subject.
Marie took another breath and knocked on the rough wood. There was no answer. She tried again a little louder, hurting her knuckles. Still no answer. She looked at Ona as she rubbed her hand.
A sly grin grew on Ona’s face. “Want me to wake him up?”
Marie smiled back, glad that someone else was going to get Ona’s special brand of morning greeting for once. “Absolutely.”
Ona giggled and entered the cell. A few moments later a loud shout came from behind the door. “Gyaa!” Alec’s voice cried out, groggy and slurred with sleep. “Ona? Whaddya doin’ here?”
“We have some questions for you,” she heard Ona say. There was a pause during which Marie could hear rustling, Alec sitting up most likely. She tried to peer through the little window in the door, but she was too short and all she could see was the dusty, cobweb-covered ceiling of the cell.
Suddenly Ona squeaked and popped through the wall next to Marie looking very embarrassed. Marie gave her a questioning look, but Ona just turned back to the cell. “Next time warn me that you’re not wearing any pants!” she shouted.
“You’re not even supposed to be here!” came the reply. “This is no place for girls.” For the next minute or so Marie listened while Alec grumbled about shades and bustled about in his cell. Eventually, his face filled the little window and he looked down at Marie. She had to step back a few paces to get a good angle where she could see him without craning her neck uncomfortably. He stared at her, his eyes glancing at her brooch.
“Well,” he said after a bit. “You interrupted a very pleasant dream and nearly gave me a heart attack in the process. What do you want?”
“I am Mage Marie,” she said. “Lady Mage Alba Lequette’s personal maid.”
“Congratulations,” he said. “Go brag about that to someone who cares. I have a dream to get back to.”
“I have questions about the other night.”
“Talk to Beaty. He already interrogated me. Very smugly too, I might add.”
“Do you remember what happened?” asked Marie, reaching into her satchel for her mage’s notebook. Her hand brushed the cold metal of the mage’s gun and she repressed another shudder. She found the book and quickly pulled it out. She began to inscribe some runes, elen’hatha, infusing them with her essence as she wrote. Most runescribers would wait until they were finished before infusing their work, in case they needed to fix any errors. Marie didn’t make mistakes, not on runes this simple, at least. Ona watched with interest.
“No,” answered Alec. “But no one else could have done it. Even I admit that. Just leave me alone…” he glanced down at her notebook, which she held at an angle so he couldn’t see the pages. “That’s a rune book. What are you doing?”
She finished the last rune and tore the page out, slapping it onto the cell door. Alec lurched forward and grunted as he was plastered against it. The door thunked as the other loose objects in the room hit it as well. The paper stuck to one side of the door, Alec to the other.
“Wow,” said Ona, her eyes wide. “The whole door’s glowing. Nice.”
“What’re you doin’?” Alec asked, his words were garbled since his face was pressed against the bars of the window. “Ya can’ use runes in a interr-gation w’out a judge’s order.”
“If this were an official investigation, that would be true,” said Marie as she began to scribe another set of runes. This time she let him see what she was writing, hoping he would recognize them. It was a long shot, they were a fairly advanced set, not technically a ward, but more a string of runes working together in concert. The line between what constituted a rune set and a ward was not always clear. Alecs’ eyes widened and she allowed herself a smile. He did recognize them. Marie kept working carefully. Runes that affected the mind were finicky and could do some real damage if not inscribed correctly. She drew the last few lines and infused the runes. This set took a lot more essence than the gravity rune. She was good with runes, but her stamina was fairly weak. She only had enough to do maybe one more batch before she would need to rest, but if this worked she wouldn’t need any more. “Fortunately for me, I’m not here on official business.”
“Get that Master-cursed thing away from me,” Alec growled, managing to wriggle just enough to free his jaw. “I already admitted to doing it. You don’t need that.”
Marie ripped the page out and held it up. “You know what this is then? I’m impressed.”
“I’m a drunk,” Alec said. “But I’m not stupid.”
“Tell me how you were able to activate a runelight when you were so intoxicated you can’t remember something that happened only a few minutes before that?”
“Get those damn runes away from me first.”
“How can I believe anything you say otherwise?” She moved the page of runes closer to his face, ready to place it on his forehead. He tried to pull away, struggling against the runes holding him to the door.
“I swear it on the Master and all the Heralds above, I will speak the truth or lose my soul to damnation. Now get that cursed thing away from me!” He was frantic, almost panicking. Marie paused, taken aback by his intensity.
“You’re devout?” she asked. It was rare to meet a religious mage. Most would occasionally reference the Master in casual speech, but atheism was the official doctrine of the Empire, and the Academy was no different. Science - not religion - was what ruled the universe.
“As devout as anyone who was raised by nuns telling him every day that he was cursed by the Master and condemned to an eternity of suffering simply because he’s a twin can be, I suppose. I swear I won’t lie to you. I’m damned anyway by this point. I have no reason to lie.”
Marie paused for a moment, making it look like she was considering it. In truth, she had hoped she wouldn’t need to use the truth runes. They were illegal to use without authorization, and even Lady Alba didn’t have enough authority to approve of their use. She drained the runes, absorbing most of the essence back into herself, though about a third of it was lost. She was starting to feel a bit out of breath. Of course, the thin atmosphere wasn’t helping matters at all. The paper blackened and crumbled to dust in her hand.
“You gonna le’me go?” Alec asked, his face still scrunched against the bars.
“No,” said Marie, wiping her hands together to get the last of the paper dust off of them. The paper on the door was starting to blacken around where the runes were scribed. She touched it and pushed a bit more essence into the runes, just to make sure they had a full charge. The effort left her feeling a bit dizzy and the door creaked against the strain. “Tell me how you activated that light,” she said, pushing past her physical discomfort. “I don’t claim to know much about drunken stupors, but you should have been out for several more hours at least, shouldn’t you have?”
Alec grunted against the gravity runes and wriggled his jaw loose again. “I don’t know. As far as I know, I had been passed out all night. All I remember is leaving the bar and then waking up with Boris dead beside me. I was holding the knife – my knife – and covered in his blood. Even I can see what happened. I was probably stumbling about and ran into him. We got into another fight and I took it too far this time. End of story.”
“Do you usually have no recollection of the night before when you get that drunk?”
“Sometimes. As I sober up it usually comes back to me.”
“So why would this time be different?”
“I don’t know, woman,” said Alec, getting agitated. “Probably because I killed a man. Not something you really want to remember, is it?”
“Why do you carry runestones around? Most twins don’t bother. They’re too hard for you to use.”
“Not for me,” he said with a hint of pride. “Turns out I’m pretty good with runes. Not like a full mereologist, but not bad for a twin.”
That piqued Marie’s interest. “Can you scribe?”
Alec shook his head. “Nah. I can activate ‘em easy enough, though, relatively speaking. Still feels strange when I do, and takes more essence than a mereologist would need.”
Marie had a dozen more questions but shook her head. She was getting distracted. “It still doesn’t explain how you activated the runelight. It takes a level of concentration that you just shouldn’t have been able to muster in that state.”
“Don’t know what to tell you, lady,” said Alec. “Why’s it matter so much? I’m guilty either way. Just leave me alone.”
Marie glanced at the runepaper on the door. The charing had almost reached the edges by this point. She was out of time.
“I have a question,” Ona said, sounding hesitant. Marie and Alec both looked at her in surprise. Marie had nearly forgotten she was there, and so had Alec, it seemed. “Why did you get sent here? To Clement, I mean. Was it a punishment for some crime? Is that why you won’t tell me?”
“You really want to know?” Alec asked. Ona nodded, her face tense. He sighed and closed his eyes. “I was stationed in Neru, at a small guard post near the southern border. It was hot and boring as all damnation and several day’s journey from nowhere in every direction. Well, the Lord Commander’s daughter had a thing for mages, and I had a thing for rich girls, especially noble ones. Anyways, one thing led to another and we got caught. Her father was furious, of course, but what we did wasn’t technically illegal, so by the king’s law he couldn’t execute me; so I got sent here instead.”
Marie glared at him, disgusted. Ona nodded, her face falling. It was not a stretch to see that Ona had liked this man. “You make me sick,” Marie said.
“I never pretended to be a herald or anything, lady,” said Alec.
“You told me your story,” said Ona softly, drawing their attention back to her. “Now it's my turn. Do you still want to know how I died?” Alec nodded slowly, the attitude and arrogance suddenly gone from his face.
“Ona…” said Marie, reaching a hand out to grab her arm. Of course it passed right through. Ona didn’t even seem to notice. She was looking at Alec.
“I died from a broken heart.”
She turned and floated through the wall and out into the village. The runepaper burned up and Alec fell back from the door, leaving Marie alone to watch the spot where Ona had gone.
END OF CHAPTER TWENTY