Chapter 43 Truth Entire, Truth Alone #2
Once Dallar left the stand, Karvas continued his monologue.
“I believe Marriosan and Naszi lied about the presence of a third-party intruder inside the Order on the night of the crimes—sorry, the night of the events—and that they went to extreme lengths to stage the violence that purportedly forced their hands. Of course, it is difficult to prove that they were acting alone, that there was no third party inside headquarters—much like trying to prove that a deity doesn’t exist. But I can certainly call them to the stand as witnesses anyway, catch them in a lie. Marriosan, if you please.”
Expecting this tactic, Auria took to the stand, masking her nerves with a coy smile. “I’ve never lied in my life, so good luck with that.”
“I somehow doubt that.”
Auria shrugged. “I’d down a vat of truth elixir right now, if such things were permitted.”
“Well, that’s a matter for the Grand Arbiter. Speaking of which, I understand you have career aspirations of the highest seat. This blemish on your record will make that borderline impossible, no?”
Auria lifted her chin. “Charges are yet to be brought.”
Karvas shot her a sickly smile. “You were caught red-handed burgling your superior officer. Unless you’re disputing that I did, indeed, catch you in the act?”
“No, Captain.”
Karvas resumed his slow pacing, hands clasped behind his back. “You also admit that when the supposed intruder arrived in the common room, you were almost delirious from your headache and your night-shift fatigue, correct?”
Auria gritted her teeth. She loathed when non-migraine sufferers equated them to simple headaches. “I don’t believe I used the word delirious, no, but I was feeling hazy.”
“And so how can you be sure there was a third-party intruder in the room, and that the supposed ‘invisible outline’ ”—scathing air quotes—“was not just a figment of your aura headaches?”
“Because figments cannot hold blades to throats,” Auria replied calmly.
Karvas’s questioning continued in a similar manner, designed to rattle rather than discern any new information.
When Nissa was called to the witness stand, he attempted to undermine her credibility, focusing on her time out of service and the aftereffects of her grievous injuries at the docks.
Was it not possible that trauma had caused her imagination to fabricate the illusion of an intruder?
Nissa bared teeth. “Either you believe that Marriosan and I were calculated enough to fake the presence of an intruder, as you initially posited, or you believe that we were both so physically and psychologically compromised that we became delusional. I don’t suppose both can be true.”
Auria smiled to herself, until Karvas said, “All rather inconsequential, isn’t it? The fact of the matter is that you were caught burgling your captain. We’re only really debating your motives and methods, rather than the crimes—sorry, the acts.”
Finally, it was Auria’s turn to present evidence and call witnesses. She fought the childish urge to crack her knuckles, as though preparing for a bar fight.
“I’d like to call Captain Vel Karvas to the witness stand.”
Karvas strode to the bench with a confident ease, as though he were the one in control.
A common thing, to mistake power for control.
“Captain Karvas, you suggested ‘aiding and abetting’ when describing our potential breaches of the Constitution of Laws. Surely this would imply that there was a third party present on the night in question?”
Karvas shook his head. “I meant aiding and abetting in the sense that you were stealing the letter for a former colleague—a former colleague who is now a Bloodmoon, no less.”
“What exactly are you trying to suggest happened? As Detective Naszi pointed out, you cannot seem to decide whether it was an elaborate scheme or a consequence of delirium.”
“I believe that you and Naszi staged an intruder inside the building in order to justify your burglary. And I believe, though I cannot prove it, that Saffron Killoran was waiting outside my office window for the letter to be dropped into her hands.”
Auria gave an exaggeratedly confused smile. “You did not think to pursue Killoran, in that case? You could have been out of the window in an instant, hot on her tail. But instead you focused on reprimanding your own detectives.”
“I had just woken up, and my well was far from full.”
“Did you at least cross to the window, in an attempt to positively identify Killoran?”
A muscle twitched in Karvas’s jaw. “No. I assumed that she’d be under the guise of an invisibility tincture or similar.”
Auria frowned. “So you do confess that it’s within the realms of possibility for a Bloodmoon to have infiltrated the Order using such a potion.”
“Of course it’s within the realms of—”
“Tell me, Captain Karvas,” she interjected, knowing that this was a man who hated to be interrupted. Let him grow rankled, ireful. Such a temperament might make him slip. “Do you trust the mages under your command?”
The captain’s cheeks reddened with barely suppressed anger. “I’ve seen enough in my career to be jaded.”
“No, then.”
“I suppose that would be an accurate summation.”
“Which explains why you did not even entertain the idea of taking us at our word—that you immediately assumed everything out of our mouths had been a lie, even when we’d given you no reason to doubt us in the past. Other than our out-of-work conversations with Killoran, of course, which I am happy to describe at great length.
Yes, Killoran asked both of us in turn to help her retrieve the letter, but we both turned her down. ”
“An easy thing to claim, but difficult to prove.”
Auria beamed genially. “Thankfully I’m in the habit of wearing a bracelet enchanted with a listening charm whenever I’m called to a crime scene—in case I end up capturing key evidence, you see.”
She held up her wrist to reveal a wire-thin silver bracelet inscribed with a series of enchanted spellwork. Withdrawing her wand from her pocket, she tilted her gaze to the judge.
“May I? Casting magic is not usually permitted in court, but…”
The judge nodded. “This is not a formal trial, so go ahead.”
Auria tapped the tip of her sapphire-studded willow wand to the bracelet, muttering the stanza of words that would recall the recordings of a specific date and time.
Saffron’s voice echoed through the room, tinny but unmistakable.
“My father wrote me a letter. Left it with Aspar, I think. I haven’t heard my mother or father’s voice for over twenty years. I want it more than I want to breathe. And I thought…maybe we could trade. I was with Tiernan when he died. I can tell you everything.”
“I am not your friend, Saffron. And it is far too great a risk for me to take you at your word, to believe without any real evidence that you’re undercover.
Because what if you are lying? I will not dishonor Tiernan’s memory by using his final moments as a bartering chip, whether you want a letter or something far worse—because I have no doubt that’s where this leads.
We make one trade, this innocent missive from your lost father, and you hold it over me forever.
You threaten to tell my captain, the commissioner.
You threaten to ruin me if I don’t play your game.
So no, I refuse to engage with the very first move. ”
“No, Auria, I would never—”
“They’re gone.” The muffled sounds of the street filtered through the bracelet.
“You are ruining everything I hold dear, and I hate you, I really do. Because this all leads back to you, doesn’t it?
My grandfather’s death, Tiernan’s. All my worldly pain stems from your choices.
So stay away from me. Or I swear—to all the Saints in the sky—that I will toss you back in Duncarzus and throw away the key. ”
Auria tapped the bracelet, ending the recording. She turned to Karvas, whose cheeks had deepened into a wrathful red-purple. “This last part was slightly petulant, I’ll confess.”
“It strikes me as rather convenient that you recorded such a conversation,” Karvas retorted, his tone low and hateful.
“Yes, how convenient that I’m so good at my job.
As you can hear, I was under immense duress, pursuing witnesses down the busiest street in Atherin lest the Whitewings slay them before they could talk.
Do you really think I stopped and thought, hmm, later, when I betray the very institution to which I’ve dedicated my life, I should have some evidence of this conversation? ”
“It’s within the realms of—”
“Do you not hear how paranoid you sound?”
Judge Nercan rapped two fingers on the bench. “Careful, Marriosan—dangerously close to badgering.”
“Apologies, Your Honor,” Auria said sweetly. “Let’s move on to my evidence, shall we? I’m afraid it’s rather more conclusive than an empty drawer.”