It was all very troubling.

Konstantine left clear instructions for Vita to bring a silver rod dedicated to Mother Luna with them. Even if she wasn’t reading carefully, she should have known that a standard past-seeing divination would never function properly under these circumstances. Divination was women’s magic, and already difficult enough for him to work given the masculine charge of his own aura. Luna the Wanderer was the most masculine of Luna’s aspects, common sense should have told Vita that something was wrong.

He chose his research assistants more for their appearance than their occult acumen, true. But he did expect them to show a certain level of competency. There were too many other matters on his mind at the moment, but once this mess was sorted, he intended to give her a stern talking to.

Gods, how his knees ached.

He struggled back to his feet with the help of a nearby soldier. The magic circle was finished, and the reagents had been placed at each compass point. All that remained was the light the incense and complete the ritual, once the others had returned. Konstantine struggled into a chair to sit and wait. While he waited he began to think.

Why would someone want to kill the emperor?

The question itself brought along an unspoken assumption. Was the emperor the true target? The hall was full that night, not only the usual male favorites were in attendance. There were also diplomats among the casualties, from Teutonia and Velois… exiles from the Republic. All sorts of people. Just because the emperor was the most important person in the room, did not mean that he was necessarily the most important person to the assassin.

The explosion occurred some distance from the emperor, near where the foreigners from the successor kingdoms sat. That suggested interesting possibilities.

He would find out all soon enough. Konstantine calmed his mind and prepared himself for the coming spell.

“There you are! Just what do you intend to do about all this?” His majesty burst into the room in a rage.

Konstantine rose to his feet at once. “Your majesty, you can see the preparations are already in place. I know a spell that is absolutely certain to unravel the truth about this whole matter us in just a moment.”

“And why should I trust you spells, wizard! How do I know you aren’t responsible? I think it’s very convenient the way you made yourself scarce just before the explosion.”

This was a very dangerous thought for his majesty, which Konstantine decided he must quash immediately. “I heard about poor Nicholas; I know how much pain you must be in.”

That did the trick. His majesty’s face softened, then his eyes began to water.

Konstantine opened his arms, and the emperor put himself into his former tutor’s embrace at once. “I miss him so much.”

Konstantine whispered to him soothingly. “I know you do. We’ve both lost so many. But I promise you, together we shall find the one responsible and bring him to justice. I swear it.”

“Yes. Yes, you’re right.”

Justinian and Vita had returned before his majesty finished collecting himself. Konstantine slapped the emperor on the back. “We are ready to begin, my Lord. Are you strong enough to stand alone again?”

The emperor cleared his throat. “Yes, begin at once.” He straightened up out of Konstantine’s arms, and wiped his eyes dry. “I want the blackguard responsible found, magister.”

“It shall be done, my Lord.”

Konstantine returned to the magic circle and entered it.

“Here, magister.” Vita tried to hand him the silver rod.

Konstantine shook his head. “No, you were right. It doesn’t do for a man to hold such a thing. You’ll be the one to read the prayers while I’m in the trance, to tether my soul to my body and bring me back.” He gave her a scroll with the inscriptions written in Liturgical.

Then, he removed two vials, which he always kept on his belt. He gave one of them to Justinian. “Give me six minutes under before you bring me back. You have a minute glass?”

Justinian took a small sand glass out of his bag. “You’re sure about this? We could wait until night, hope that some of this violent energy radiates out. We could try a standard past-seeing divination then.”

“No, no. His majesty wants an answer now. The longer we wait, the farther away we become from the point we’re trying to view. Every second that passes more details are becoming lost to history. If you can’t solve a problem one way, then you must go about it another. Six minutes will be perfectly safe, and should be more than long enough for me to learn everything I need. Just be certain that it's not longer than seven minutes, or I shall stay dead. That sand doesn’t run slow, does it?”

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Justinian mouth twitched into a smile, even though he was obviously trying to resist it. “No, it doesn’t run slow. Listen…” He moved close to whisper. “Do you really trust that girl to recite the prayers to bring you back? She doesn’t seem the sharpest scalpel in the surgeon’s bag.”

“I’ve written them down for her, all she needs to do is read the words on the page. You worry too much, my friend. She’s no doubt already horribly embarrassed by her blunder with the rod, she’ll be twice as diligent to make it up to me. You’ll see.”

“You’ve always been lucky with women, old friend. I just hope I’m not there to see it when that luck runs out.”

Konstantine lay down flat on his back.

“What are you going to do, magister?” asked Vita.

“Well, what does it look like?” Konstantine drank the poison in the vial he still held, and promptly died.

Konstantine climbed out of his body and stood up.

He enjoyed the feeling of being dead. Perhaps that was the reason he held no superstitious fears about the gods. He would meet them when his time came, and until then he would enjoy his life as he lived it.

His astral form, free of its mortal shell felt wonderfully limber and spritely.

The living had vanished. In their place, he saw shadows moving all around him. The somber shades of men flitting from place to place without substance. They would not see him, as he was not truely dead. Yet Konstantine knew he must make contact with one of them somehow, if he was to gain any information. He needed an personal hook to use for mystic contact.

Then he saw a shade he knew.

“Nicholas.”

Once Konstantine had caught him by his name, the wraithy figure looked up towards him in confusion. The wizard locked gaze with the ghost and used his eyes to reel him closer.

“How do you know me?” the shade asked, as it drew nearer.

“I recognized you by your mole. Now listen, I haven’t much time. I seek the one responsible for this atrocity. One of you must have been the target, and he may know the assassin. Nicholas, you must lead me to that man, for all of you to be avenged.”

“Avenged?”

“Yes. You bring me to the man, he shall tell me the name of the assassin, then I will return to life and inform the emperor – your close companion – and he shall enact justice.”

“Claudius is the man you seek.”

There was a Baron Claudius among the casualties, Konstantine knew him by sight. A man that large was difficult to forget. Konstantine caught sight of the Baron through the ghostly tumult, and called out to him by name to catch him.

“Claudius!”

The shade was unaffected.

“Baron Claudius the Large! Come here this instant!”

Slowly the shade began to drift towards him. Konstantine tried to estimate how long he had remaining. Four minutes? Perhaps three?

“Claudius! I’ve been told you were the target of this bombing. Now what could you have done to cause all this much trouble?”

“I am… a… disappointment…” The Baron’s ghost enunciated at an excruciating pace.

“To many people, I’m certain. But which one of them killed you for it, and why?”

“I came here… to flee…”

“From who? The Baroness Stirba? She wouldn’t have done this, it’s not her style. Too chaotic, she prefers precision.”

“I lost… the box…

“What box is that?”

“I had… debts…”

“Many men do.”

“I was told… they would... be forgiven…”

“In exchange…?”

“I was ordered… to send men… to retrieve... an object…”

“The box.”

“It arrived… by boat…”

“From where?”

“...East…”

Konstantine realized he was losing time, and refocused himself on the true purpose of his investigation. “But you failed, right? Someone took the box, probably the Baroness Stirba when she forced you out of Deepmotte.”

“…Yes…”

“Whoever wanted this box must be obsessed. To willingly to risk an attack so near the emperor himself, just to punish you. Madness. Do you know the identity of your killer?”

“She was… the one…”

She? How curious, thought Konstantine, while the ghost struggled to make himself heard. “…I was instructed… to bring… the box-

“Yes, yes. Let’s hurry this along, I’ve only got about a minute left by my calculations. Do you know her identity?”

“I had no other place… to go…”

“Her name, Baron. Her name.”

“Isabeau… du Souisail…”

“Never heard of her. Ludicrously dangerous to try this, can’t believe I’d even consider it. But there's no time left, and beggars can't be choosers. I’m going to need you to merge your mind with mine. To show me her face. Hurry please, there’s certainly less than a minute left now.”

The ghostly form of the Baron moved over him, and Konstantine was enmeshed within the ghostly whisps of fat. The shadowy hall around him began to coalesce into a recreation of the previous night.

All the ghostly players moved into their positions and began reciting their past lines in a garbled blur of speed.

One figure shined out brightly among the tempest. It was a woman, but he could not see her clearly.

She held a vial in her hand. The image became magnified before Konstantine’s eyes, and he saw the vial emptied into a goblet.

Konstantine realized that he held the cup, and against his own will, he drank from it.

At once, the same symptoms from the previous night came over him, even in his astral form. The pain in his chest was terrible.

Surely, it had been six minutes by now?

He still did not have the answers he sought, but he felt as though he were about to die. He stood to leave, but Claudius was there and took him by the arm. The shining form of the woman was there ahead of them.

Dimly, Konstantine realized Claudius was taking him directly towards the center of the blast site.

The woman held out a heavy golden pendant with a massive ruby. Konstantine took it from her and placed it around the neck of a mournful Claudius.

If it passed seven minutes, he would be dead. Still Konstantine had a duty to perform.

Though his astral body ached and trembled, he forced himself to look up at the shining woman. To peer under her hood. To see.

Vita.

Isabeau du Souisail, the would-be imperial assassin, was Vita.

The same woman he was relying on to bring him back into his own body.

Konstantine realized that seven minutes had elapsed.

“That bitch!”