21. Griff
twenty-one
Griff
Griff watched from the edge of the domed marble chamber as the Pentarchy convened. Other than the five councilors, he was the only person in attendance, and his presence drew the occasional look. Some were curious, others disapproving at his intrusion into this most sacred of spaces.
The Pentarchy’s chamber stood in the center of Derimay, raised high enough that the sweeping windows set in the dome allowed for a spectacular view of the spreading ocean along the coast and the city far below.
At least, they usually did, if it wasn’t an emergency meeting called in the early hours of the morning.
Griff hadn’t had a chance to sleep yet, and he stifled a yawn as he swept his gaze around the room.
Colorful banners draped the wood engravings set along the walls, billowing in the sea breeze that came in through openings in the dome’s columned sides. Five thrones sat in a rough pentagram around the exterior of the chamber, each on an elevated dais facing toward the others.
The symbols of their offices were carved into the backs, along with the names of every person to ever hold the title.
When the current councilor’s term ended, their name would join the rest. Griff had no idea what would happen when they ran out of room—make a new chair, perhaps?
Or more likely, simply raise up the backs.
He was drawn out of his nervous thoughts when High Commander Pern cleared his throat and spoke in a booming voice. “Thank you, everyone, for coming on such short notice.”
“As if we had much of a choice,” High Merchant Teodoro replied. His mouth twisted in a scowl beneath his oiled mustache. “Now that we’re here, would you get on it? I have important contracts to negotiate soon.”
“Hear hear,” High Chancellor Dewani said, his words noticeably slurred. He followed up his declaration with a colossal burp. “My attendants dragged me away from a highly engaging party to be here, and I’d like to return before it ends if it’s all the same to you.”
High Scholar Vesalain cast a look of thinly veiled disapproval at the High Chancellor. “May I remind my fellow councilors that there are rules to follow here for proper decorum. The High Commander has the floor.”
High Judge Septima murmured her assent as the others fell quiet, turning toward the High Commander.
Griff let his gaze wander over each of them in turn. His glasses already tucked in his pocket, he took careful note of their auras as the High Commander proceeded.
“Thank you, Vesalain. Mere hours ago, I was attacked in my office. I barely escaped with my life. Most troubling of all, the attack was carried out using a voidflame relic.”
“A void relic!” the High Judge exclaimed, her eyes widening. “By the Light, how did anyone gain access to such a thing? It couldn’t have come from Derimay.”
“Good question.” The High Commander’s gaze narrowed on the High Merchant.
“It would certainly require a great deal of resources, not to mention funds, to acquire such a rare and dangerous artifact. And to be so brazen as to attack a councilor in the middle of protector headquarters? Why, it seems almost personal, does it not?”
High Merchant Teodoro’s eyes widened. The small man shoved to his feet, gesturing emphatically as he glared at the High Commander. “If you’re insinuating what I think you are, Pern, then you are gravely mistaken!”
The High Commander shrugged, never taking his eyes off the High Merchant. “I am not insinuating anything, Teodoro. Merely pointing out the facts. Though if you ask me, it seems like you have a guilty conscience.”
“Gentlemen, please, remain civil,” High Scholar Vesalain said with an aggrieved sigh. Her face contorted in a grimace. “By the Goddess, can you not put the needs of Sanjarka above your own selfish interests for a single moment?”
“Selfish?” High Commander Pern whirled toward the High Scholar. “I hardly think it selfish to demand justice for attempted assassination! We all know that Teodoro would kill any one of us if he thought there was profit in it.”
“I am an elected official, same as you!” The High Merchant tugged angrily on one end of his mustache. “I take my duty to Sanjarka very seriously!”
The High Commander snorted. “Yes, I’m sure you’re very concerned with how much coin you can wring out of the city’s coffers before your term expires.”
“Come now,” High Judge Septima said with a long-suffering tone. “I think everyone should take a deep breath before things get any more out of hand.”
The High Chancellor groaned, flopping back in his seat like a beached whale. “By the Goddess, how much longer is this going to take? I have more important matters to attend to.”
As the councilors continued to bicker and argue among themselves, Griff carefully monitored their auras.
The High Merchant was angry, of course, as was the High Commander.
Nothing surprising there. The High Judge appeared tired more than anything, while the High Scholar pulsed with frustration, and the High Chancellor looked minutes away from drifting off to sleep.
Griff muffled a sigh. Merciful Light, were all the council meetings this unproductive? So far, nothing in any of the auras struck him as particularly meaningful. Cal and the High Commander were probably right—High Merchant Teodoro was the obvious culprit.
Yet Griff remained doubtful, even if he couldn’t explain why. If there was one thing his years of investigating had taught him, it was that things were rarely ever so nice and simple. They’d already falsely suspected the High Commander. This time, he wanted to be absolutely certain before he acted.
He let the argument continue to play out a while longer.
When he was convinced he wasn’t going to get anything else useful out of the discussion, he decided it was time to move on to their next gambit.
Shuffling over to the trap door set in the floor, he tugged it open to reveal a landing beneath, along with stairs descending lower into the tower.
Nodding at Cal where he waited on the landing, he turned back to the chamber and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Councilors, please! If I could have your attention! I have a witness here with me to confirm who is responsible for the attack on the High Commander.”
A wave of murmurs washed over Griff at that as the councilors fell silent. Gesturing for Cal to come up, Griff waited for Cal to emerge into the chamber. Thanks to his duskflame, Cal was the spitting image of Kelsith, right down to his patchwork cloak and coiled strand of rope.
As Cal played the part of the arrogant thief, sauntering into the center of the room, Griff focused his aura-sight back on the councilors to gauge their reactions. Most appeared curious at this new stranger in their midst—all but one, where he caught the faintest flicker of fear.
Griff turned his head to focus his attention fully on High Scholar Vesalain. There was no mistaking it—she had recognized Kelsith. Griff muffled a small smile. Got you.
“Before you interrogate him,” Griff said, striding out to stand beside the disguised Cal. “I have a few questions for you…High Scholar.”
High Scholar Vesalain quickly masked her surprise behind a frown. She gave a curt nod. “Of course, Inspector. I’m happy to provide any information I can to help elucidate this troubling case. Ask your questions.”
“Thank you, ma’am. You’ve been outspoken in your support of peace with Nalax, have you not?”
The High Scholar blinked, appearing taken aback by the question. “Er…that’s correct. The Sanjarkan Republic has long served as a trusted arbiter among our neighbors. I believe that all conflicts, no matter how dire, can be solved without resorting to bloodshed.”
Griff nodded, beginning to slowly pace with his hands clasped behind his back. He caught Cal’s questioning look and flashed him a reassuring smile. Don’t worry, I’ve got this.
“A noble sentiment, High Scholar. It must have frustrated you, then, to observe the rising tensions between the High Commander and High Merchant of late. With one advocating for war and the other for a restoration of free trade, either one of which might weaken Sanjarka’s position to negotiate.
You said as much to me earlier tonight, did you not? ”
High Scholar Vesalain’s frown deepened. Her uncertain gaze flicked to Cal, then to the other councilors. “Something to that effect. But perhaps you misunderstood. I have nothing but the highest respect for my fellow councilors, even when we disagree.”
“I’m sure you do.” Griff paused before the High Scholar, hardening his gaze on her. “Which was why you concocted so elaborate a plot to get one of them out of your way.”
The High Judge shot to her feet. “How dare you!”
“That’s a serious accusation to level against a councilor, Inspector,” High Judge Septima said, a note of warning in her voice.
“It is,” Griff agreed. He didn’t take his eyes off of the High Scholar’s quickly paling face. “And I do not make it lightly.”
“This is outrageous!” The High Scholar’s voice quavered as she pointed at Griff. “I demand that he be removed at once! I don’t know about the rest of you, but I did not come here to listen to such nonsense!”
“Oh, I don’t think it’s nonsense,” Cal said in a perfect imitation of Kelsith’s voice. He flashed the High Scholar a smirk. “And I have a feeling no one else here will either. Not after they hear what I’ve got to say.”