Chapter 18 #2
I turn toward the door with a swish of my skirt—something else I’m starting to appreciate about gowns. Tunics just don’t swish with any kind of effectiveness. “Good idea. It wouldn’t be wise for us to arrive at the same time anyway. Thank you so much for your sage guidance.”
And then I get my ass out the door.
He’s just a little sensitive about his new deficiencies, Julita says as I push into the stairwell, working on unclenching my jaw.
I can’t say the prickliness is particularly appealing, but it’d have been much harder to convince him to take up my cause if he hadn’t had some kind of sensitive spot I could prod.
Is that why she really turned to Stavros out of all the professors? Not because she thought he was most likely to be able to take on the scourge sorcerers at the college, but because she saw an ideal point of emotional manipulation?
Even though I’m annoyed at the jerk, the thought of her poking at his war wounds—practically literally—gives me a jab of queasiness. Then Julita makes an urgent, wordless sound that draws me up short.
I understand why before she’s said a word. A head of shaggy brown hair is just emerging through a doorway on the landing a flight below us.
What’s Wendos up to now? Julita mutters.
As far as I can tell, following at a careful distance behind him all the way down to the first floor, all he’s up to is walking from his dorm to the classrooms. He turns down the hall that leads to the inner courtyard while I have to veer in the other direction to reach the row of tapestries and the hidden entrance.
Julita keeps murmuring darkly as if to herself. He’s got to be involved somehow. I could keep an eye on him better when our dorms were around the corner from each other.
“I’d rather eat one of these gowns than try to share a dorm with Anya,” I inform her under my breath.
It makes sense that Julita hates the guy so much, but I’m starting to see why the men get that skeptical look on their faces when he’s mentioned. She assumes he’s up to no good at every turn with nothing to show for it.
What if Wendos really has left his bad childhood decisions behind him? How much can any of us trust Julita’s judgment when she’s harboring all that past resentment?
As I slip down the stairs through the shadowy magical passage, I shake those worries off as well as I can. There’s clearly something horrible going on here at the college, or the daimon wouldn’t be wreaking havoc.
And whatever it is, we’ll all be better off if we can figure it out before their agitation spreads any farther.
It seems I’m not the only one feeling the urgency. I’d guess word about last night’s smashed statues has spread—and maybe about my incident in the dining hall too. When I emerge into the glow of the archives room, Julita’s other three men are already gathered around the desk.
Alek is standing behind it in a typical pensive pose. Benedikt has hopped up to perch on the corner and is swinging one toned leg breezily as if he hasn’t a care in the world, but the flash of his eyes when he sees me tells me he’s still concerned about yesterday.
And Casimir’s response makes it clear Benedikt has shared his observations. The courtesan hurries over, his gaze sweeping over me as if checking for lingering clumsiness.
He stops a few feet away and offers one of his gentle smiles. “You’re having an even rougher time of it here than I realized. Have you totally recovered from yesterday’s incident?”
The wobble that runs through my pulse when he looks at me that way isn’t fair. Neither is the sudden urge to close the distance between us and lean right into his warmth.
I don’t think he’d push me away. But his compassion isn’t for me, not really.
I have to remember that.
Would I even want to be like that man ogling him last night? The thought makes me cringe inwardly.
I force a smile onto my own lips and keep my tone light. “I seem to have pissed some people off without meaning to. But whatever they stuck in my food, it only hit me about as hard as a few rounds of ale. Not as hard as the daimon that ran through the third-floor hallway hit those statues.”
Alek winces. “I’ve gathered that the palace has insisted on a full inquiry after that display. But—”
With a shift in the air behind me, Stavros’s smooth voice rolls through the room. “But no one has any solid explanations to offer them. Because we still don’t have anything remotely resembling proof.”
Benedikt glances over at the new arrival. “I had a chat with a couple of the advisor of commerce’s lackeys this morning. It seems a supply of solm sap went ‘missing’ from the harbor a couple of days ago, and no one’s been able to determine who took it.”
Alek’s head jerks around. “That’s one of the other substances I saw reference to in relation to the old scourge sorcerers.”
The bastard’s bastard nods. “Exactly. The schemers must have snatched it up.”
Julita shivers. What are those villains planning now?
Benedikt turns back to Stavros. “We could try telling the Crown’s Watch what Julita’s observed and all the other things we’ve found that add up. The fact that she was murdered says a lot.”
Casimir’s mouth twists pensively. “Would they listen when she isn’t here to tell them directly?” He shoots me an apologetic glance that it’s clear is more for my ghostly passenger. “No one else knew her well enough to confirm that Ivy really is hosting her soul. From us, it’s only hearsay.”
“And with her body vanished, we have no way to prove the murder either,” Stavros puts in with a growl. He isn’t looking at me at all, but after our discussion upstairs, I’m all right with that.
Now does seem like a good idea to mention that I may have made a slight bit of progress. “There’s something new I want to look into. Or someone new.”
Alek catches my gaze with a glint of curiosity in his bright brown eyes. The same ridiculous part of me that wobbles over Casimir’s smile twinges with the yearning to share a knowing moment with him.
But what I’m going to talk about isn’t what he and I discussed the other day anyway.
Benedikt lifts his chin toward me encouragingly. “What’ve you got, Knives?”
Julita stirs in my head with anticipation. I drag in a breath and decide to get right to it. “One of the law professors is bringing in outer-warder kids dressed up as nobles and taking them around campus. Ster. Torstem. I saw him with one yesterday.”
All four of the men stare at me for a few seconds. Stavros ambles toward the desk, his head cocked to one side. “And you know this because of your magical urchin-detecting gift?”
His tone isn’t quite as sharp as when he snapped at me in his quarters, but it’s still got an edge under the teasing lilt.
I meet his gaze steadily. “Most people around here never seem to look past appearances. You certainly don’t know the subtleties of street-rat behavior. Whereas, as you’ve liked to point out to me, I’m one of them.”
“If Ivy says she’s sure of what she saw, I think we should believe her,” Cas says quietly.
Benedikt twirls a quill he’s picked up between his fingers. “What do urchins have to do with scourge sorcery? Maybe Torstem simply likes watching them play dress-up.”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I just thought it was strange and that we should look into it.”
Alek’s mouth tightens with a hint of queasiness. “The accounts I’ve read of the original scourge sorcerers… Children were some of their favorite targets for increasing their power. Get them sacrificing on the sorcerer’s behalf at their dedication ceremony.”
My own stomach flips over. “You think Torstem could be murdering these kids for power?”
Alek holds up his hands. “We can’t assume that.
The records say that they needed to use supplicants who were close to them—usually family members and friends.
People who could honestly dedicate the sacrifice of their life to someone else’s use honestly, because they were devoted to the sorcerer.
I read that there were some who had child after child simply to indoctrinate them all before offering them up… ”
He trails off, looking even sicker than before.
I can’t restrain a shudder. “This kid definitely wasn’t raised by any part of a professor’s family.”
“He has one daughter, grown and an advisor for one of the provinces near the capital,” Stavros puts in. “No one’s mentioned her missing an exorbitant number of body parts that would indicate even a significant living sacrifice. I don’t know about nieces or nephews.”
Benedikt twirls his quill at Alek. “Isn’t he the staff leader for at least one of the clubs in your list of the ones that make regular trips off campus?”
Julita pipes up. Yes, exactly what I thought. And Wendos is all mixed up in it too.
Alek’s eyes cloud with thought. “He has a group of elite law students who he takes on regular trips to the surrounding cities to observe provincial and county legal processes. The entomology club goes on periodic insect-observing and collecting expeditions. And his late wife was originally from Icar—he takes the Silanian-Icarian brotherhood on excursions to towns along the border.”
“So he’d have lots of chances to lead illicit rituals away from the prying eyes of the capital,” I fill in with a grimace, and then add reluctantly, “Julita says Wendos is part of the ‘bug club.’”
The others get that expression like they’ve smelled cow dung, but then all four gazes turn more intent.
Benedikt fixes his on me with the unsettling impression I’m getting used to that it isn’t me he’s looking at right now. “Has Jules noticed anything else intriguing since she started traveling around with you on campus?”
Julita sighs. I wish you could say I have.
I shake my head. “She’s been pointing out people I should keep an eye on and observations she’s made before, but we haven’t uncovered anything new other than the Torstem thing.”
Disappointment flickers across the men’s faces, but Casimir smooths the moment over in typical graceful fashion. “Whatever exactly is going on, it’s definitely an unusual situation. We need to determine what Ster. Torstem’s intentions are.”
I fold my arms over my chest. “There’s got to be a way to find out where that kid—and any others he’s brought around the school, if he has—came from. Surely he isn’t randomly plucking them off the streets of Slaughterwell or Tangleside.”
Benedikt snaps his fingers. “And if we find out where he got the kid, we can find the kid himself and ask him what Torstem was up to!”
“You want me to abuse my staff privileges again,” Stavros says dryly. “I’ll see what I can discover through my access to faculty records.”
Alek glances around the room. “I might be able to trace some of his connections outside of the school through the general records as well.”
“Don’t go approaching anyone from the fringes without talking to me,” I say, shooting a firm look at all of them.
“Especially if he’s done something they’re uncomfortable talking about, they’ll only clam up more if some noble starts badgering them.
I should handle any inquiries beyond the inner wards. ”
Casimir beams at me. “Of course. It only makes sense. That’s why we’re lucky to have you working with us.”
I contain the giddiness his compliment provokes. “We should keep in mind Alek’s point about families too. Are there any staff or students at the college who’ve had spouses, siblings, or children make unusual sacrifices or outright disappear? I assume there are familial records somewhere.”
Benedikt shoots me a grin. “And also good old-fashioned gossip.”
Alek is already turning toward the door to the adjoining rooms. “We do have family trees for many of the prominent lineages…”
An unfamiliar sensation that’s much more than giddiness sweeps through me from head to toe.
They’re listening to me. Taking my suggestions as commands and springing to action.
Like I really am an equal partner in this investigation instead of an unexpected interloper.
I’ve never had a chance to establish anything I could call comradery before. I had no idea collaborating could feel this good.
It’s not the closeness I so often craved when I watched Ewalin and her mother bantering by the bee hive… but the sudden wash of warmth fills the same hollow inside.
Then Stavros pops the bubble of my exhilaration with a low chuckle and an offhand jab. “Look at you taking over. I don’t know whether we should be thanking you or Julita chatting away in your head.”
My spirits plummet as quickly as they lifted. “When something’s from Julita, I tell you so,” I say tartly, but my gut has twisted.
Will any of them totally believe that?
As if I’d have brought you here if you weren’t capable of thinking for yourself, Julita says with a sniff. You’re handling them wonderfully, Ivy. Someone needs to keep them on track.
I don’t know why, but her assessment of the situation only deflates me a little more.
I take a step back from the men. “I’ll continue making my own inquiries as I can. It seems like we all have plenty to do now.”
So there’s no reason for me to linger and continue being reminded of how I’m not really meant to be here at all.
Before I can leave, Casimir brightens as only he can. “The ball will give you—and Julita—plenty of chances to observe both the students and the staff with their guards down.”
I hesitate. “You think I should go?”
Benedikt waggles his eyebrows. “You were planning on skipping the biggest party of the month?”
“Well, I don’t exactly have a lot of experience with reveling with nobles.” Or rather, reveling in general.
Navigating a ball feels like a much higher magnitude of con artistry than handling classwork or a hunt.
“Don’t turn tail on us now, Thief,” Stavros drawls, so apparently even he expects me to pull this off too.
Alek looks as if the thought of balls makes him feel about as sick as scourge sorcerers carving up their kids does, but he inclines his head too. “It is probably the best opportunity you’ll get all month to observe and overhear things people would usually keep hidden.”
Julita shifts in the back of my mind with motion that feels almost like a pat on my head. Don’t worry about it. I can talk you through the whole thing. It’ll be fun!
I have my doubts about that, but I can hardly back down now. “All right. I guess tomorrow I’m going dancing.”
Gods help us all.