Playing a Part
K arigan wearily stood and strode over to her agents, the longshoremen she’d hired off the docks to track down Croft and bring him to her.
“Gentlemen,” she said, “well done. My thanks to you for everything.” They shook hands.
“A pleasure,” said Ernest, who did the talking for the pair. Roald, who was tall as a giant and just as broad, was a man of few words. “Truth is, Sub-chief,” Ernest continued, “you aren’t at all what we were expecting in a merchant lady.”
“I hope in a good way?”
“Surprising in a good way. You had us going as much as that worm, Croft.”
Roald nodded his agreement.
She beamed. “I’m very pleased you got him for me. Oh, here is Master Hollingdale. He will ensure you receive your reward from the constabulary and settle the second half of your payment from Clan G’ladheon.”
“If you need such services again,” Ernest said, “do call on us.”
“I certainly will.”
As they moved away to receive their payment from Robert, she thought about how, over the long months, she had considered using those funds on the clan’s many other needs. She was glad she had not. The capture of Croft had been well worth it.
Her observers now came forward to speak with her.
One was Mara, whom she had brought along for moral support and as a witness should her testimony be needed.
The others included the two law speakers Zachary had detailed to work on her defense; a third law speaker who was unaffiliated with the clan, the crown, or the constabulary to be an impartial witness; and finally, the Chief Inspector of the Sacor City constabulary.
It had been her own idea to include observers to ensure a case against Croft and that she did not cross a line that brought new charges against her.
As it was, she had crossed into a gray area by having had Croft essentially abducted from Rivertown and brought to Sacor City against his will, but it turned out there were warrants for his arrest and a reward for his capture, which, incidentally, Ernest and Roald would also collect.
“Unconventional,” Inspector Chief Wheatland said, “but effective, and you’ve made my job much easier.
We’ve been searching for Croft for some time, though ‘Croft’ is not his real name.
He’s used many over the years, and even disguises, which made him difficult to track down.
Clan G’ladheon is his most prominent victim thus far, but not his first. He is very good at what he does, but I am still surprised he passed muster with your clan. ”
“My aunts hired him,” Karigan replied, “in the midst of a family crisis and with my father away on an extended trading mission.”
“Most unfortunate,” the inspector said, “but now we have him, and we have you to thank.”
“All thanks go to the employees of the Golden Rudder and my agents.”
“Yes,” said the Honorable Master Hopps, her impartial observer. He was a stout fellow with an enormous mustache. “I agree with the inspector. Most unconventional, but perhaps too unconventional. A cruel way to prompt a confession.”
Inspector Wheatland laughed. “You think it cruel? It was high art, a performance, and we obtained his admission without a drop of blood, and well within the limits of king’s law.
My constables don’t do nearly as well. If Sub-chief G’ladheon would like a position as an inspector-interrogator, she may have it with the asking. ”
That was, Karigan thought, quite the turnaround from having been beaten by the inspector’s constables and thrown into the city jail not so long ago.
“Thank you, Inspector,” she said. “Even if my hands were not full with other matters, it is not a job I’d desire to do on a regular basis.”
Are you so sure? her shadow self asked from the back of her mind. Admit it. You enjoyed punishing the man, bringing him to tears. You wanted more. You wanted blood. You wanted him to pay for our aunt’s death.
Karigan violently shook herself to dislodge the dark voice from her head.
“Something wrong?” Mara asked.
“No.”
The other law speakers, the Honorable Masters Chester and Winston, began speaking of Celesta Suttley.
“A twist in the plot,” Winston said.
“It will bear investigation,” the inspector said, “though we rely on the guild holding its members to account in guild matters. We’ll still look into it, but we’ve only Croft’s word to go on, and he is not an especially reliable witness.”
“Celesta is trying to undermine my clan,” Karigan said. “G’ladheon and Suttley have never been friendly, and the enmity goes back years to before I was even born.”
“Interesting,” Chester said. “If what he said is true, she extorted the extortionist.”
With a promise to look into the matter, the inspector, along with Master Hopps, departed. Chester and Winston now turned their attention fully to Karigan.
“You understand, my lady,” Chester said, “exposing Croft will do nothing to clear you of the offenses you are accused of by the guild.”
“I’m aware,” she replied.
“We will do our best in your defense,” Winston said, “and we are very good at what we do, but please try to keep a low profile and, er, do not initiate any fights in the meantime.”
Was this now to be her reputation?
“I’ll see to it she stays out of trouble,” Mara said.
Karigan glared at her.
“Very good,” Winston said.
The law speakers departed, leaving Karigan and Mara alone in the shell of the slaughterhouse. Karigan began placing Mason’s animal mending tools back in his mender’s bag. He’d been dubious about lending them out, which she understood, but when Mara helped explain why they were needed, he relented.
“How are you doing?” Mara asked.
Metal clinked as Karigan set the bone saw in the bag. “Tired, cold.”
“I mean...” Mara waved her arm about. “All this business.”
Karigan paused. How did she feel? “Satisfied we got Croft, but not happy to learn Celesta used him to sabotage my clan.”
“I’m sure that goes without saying. But I mean this.” Mara indicated the chairs and table. “The interrogation itself. That was an intense scene. It would seem Beryl instructed you well.”
The ghost in question appeared behind Mara’s left shoulder, peering at her through her specs.
Karigan closed Mason’s bag. “I feel like I want to go home and warm up with a cup of tea and pet Ghost Kitty.”
“I understand,” Mara said.
Did she? Could she really understand? Karigan collected her bonewood cane and hefted the bag of tools. The ghost of Beryl Spencer nodded solemnly to her before backing into the dark and vanishing.
Mara extinguished one of the lanterns and used the other to help guide their way out of the slaughterhouse to where their cab awaited them. Even leaving behind the large, abandoned building, with its hooks that once held the carcasses of livestock, to the dark, shadows clung to her inside and out.
They climbed into the cab and set off, bumping over the cobble street.
“You know,” Mara said, “you can be pretty scary sometimes.”
“That was not me back there,” Karigan replied, hoping her friend did not think less of her for the evening’s performance.
“Perhaps not,” Mara said, “but we all have a dark side.” A long moment passed before she added in a lighter voice, “We best not tell Tegan or she will recommend you for a part in the latest play at the Royal Magnificent.”
Karigan laughed. It was a good, honest laugh untainted by the shadows. “So long as it’s not Mad Queen Oddacious.”
But, she wondered, with the soothing clip-clop of the carriage horse’s hooves, had she really been acting?
No. Her shadow self sat across from her next to Mara. I have been, and always will be, a part of you.
Karigan pulled her coat more tightly around her and looked out the carriage window.
The yellow light of streetlamps glared on icy surfaces.
A part of her, she admitted, had been caught up in the moment.
She enjoyed the process of heightening Croft’s fear, the heady sense of power that throbbed through her veins.
He had deserved it for what he’d done to her family.
She had not, despite the temptation, the pull to do so, gone over the edge.
She had not given herself fully to the dark.
You wanted to, her shadow said.
“No.”
“No what?” Mara asked.
Karigan hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud. “Snow. I meant snow. It’s snowing.”
“It is?” Mara glanced out her window. “Barely a flurry, but Tegan did say something about another storm on the way.”
Phew, Karigan thought. She didn’t want her friend and lieutenant to think she was losing her mind, though sometimes she wondered about herself and seeing her shadow.
She considered once more the idea of giving over to her dark self and the feeling of power it had given her.
It appalled her that she had enjoyed it.
Was that how her enemies had felt? Old Lord Mirwell?
Captain Immerez and Grandmother? Shawdell?
There had to be a reason why they went out of their way to torment people or attempt to steal thrones.
The glory of power over people. She shuddered. That isn’t me. It’s not.
“You know,” Mara said, “I’m glad you told us about the Croft situation and chose to get the constabulary and law speakers involved.
That has gotten him some uncomfortable nights in jail, and everything was done openly.
It might not have looked good if you hadn’t, especially with your trial coming up. ”
“Us” had been Mara, Connly, the law speakers, and Zachary.
The time for secrets, she had decided, was over.
But she had also taken to heart Beryl’s warning to not get lost in the dark.
Letting go the secrets and inviting observers in had been a safeguard.
Even so, she had felt the pull of the power she could hold over someone and how easy it would be to lose herself in it.