“He hasn’t,” SouSmith finally pointed out.
“True, true. The man himself is still here. But the fact that he is keeping his word about his soldiers boggles my mind.”
“Think he’s up to somethin’?”
“Of course I do. He’s a salesman and a politician. If he’s not up to something I’ll eat my boots.” Adamat felt in his pockets for a moment before remembering that he’d left his own pipe at home. He eyed the troop transports as the Brudanians filed onboard, then looked down the Ad to the south. From this position it was impossible to see where Kresim Cathedral once stood, but he remembered its destruction as starkly as he remembered everything else.
“He left his mark,” SouSmith said.
“Yes. Yes he did.” And so many unanswered questions as well. Claremonte claimed that everything he had done was only to mitigate the damage Kresimir could do. It didn’t feel like an outright lie, but even an idiot could see that Claremonte had only his own gain in mind. The First Ministry of Adro seemed like such a pitiful goal for a god. Was there something else he wanted? Something greater?
And where was Brude’s other half? Who was Brude’s other half? He had played off of Tamas’s ambitions from the very beginning, which suggested someone inside the council. The thought sent chills up Adamat’s spine. Lady Winceslav? The Reeve? Perhaps it was Tamas himself! The thought was enough to give him a stroke, but he knew he had to dig deeper.
Lord Vetas had worked at cross-purposes to Tamas and the council. What had he once said? One hand not knowing what the other is doing? As far as Adamat knew, Vetas had done nothing to prevent Kresimir’s return. In fact, he had been working with Charlemund, who by all accounts had known about Kresimir’s return. An accident? Or on purpose?
“I have a hunch,” Adamat said.
“Huh?”
“Come with me to Sablethorn tonight. Do you have time?”
SouSmith glanced down at his clothes.
“Go get changed,” Adamat said. “Meet me at Sablethorn in two hours.”
SouSmith descended from the wall, leaving Adamat alone.
Adamat kicked his heels against the stone wall, watching as the first of the transports left, considering his options. He had to rule out the central members of the council. If Brude’s other half was one of the council, he would have done far more damage than he already had.
He waited until the last of the transports had left before he got to his feet and headed down to the main street to find a hackney cab. Thirty minutes later he arrived at Sablethorn, and the sun set over his shoulder as he went through the main doors and approached the guard station on the first floor. SouSmith sat in the stone hallway, back to the wall, hat tipped over his face.
“I’m here to see Lady Cheris,” Adamat said to the guard on duty.
SouSmith climbed to his feet, and the prison guard checked Adamat’s papers before letting them through.
“I think Claremonte has another agent in the city.”
“You think?”
“Of course he does, I’m not an idiot. But I mean another agent of the same rank or higher than Lord Vetas. Someone working autonomously. Completely apart from Vetas or Claremonte.” The other half of the god, Adamat thought silently.
“Why?”
“We interviewed Claremonte with a Knacked who could see through lies, and Claremonte didn’t know anything about the attack on Ricard’s headquarters. But no one benefits more than he with Ricard dead. If Claremonte has another agent in the city, working independently, it explains why he could truthfully say he didn’t plan the attack.”
“Lady Cheris?”
“I think that Cheris might know who it is.”
They reached a room near the top of the spire and Adamat paused to catch his breath while the jailer unlocked the ironbound door. They were admitted to a small but comfortable room with a fireplace, two lanterns, a bed, chair, and side table.
Lady Cheris stood beside the window, looking out onto Elections Square. She glanced curiously at Adamat but remained silent while the jailer lit the lanterns and then left.
“Lady Cheris,” Adamat said.
She waved her hand without looking away from the window. “I’ve told you everything you’re going to get from me,” she said.
“I don’t think you have. Who are you working for?” Adamat asked.
“Me? Working for someone? Hah! You must not know me very well, Inspector. I’m no one’s stooge.”
“So you claim you plotted Ricard’s fall all on your own?”
She remained silent.
“If you help me, I might be able to keep you away from the guillotine,” Adamat said.
“I don’t believe that they will send me to the guillotine, Inspector. And even if they did, you don’t have that kind of power.”
Adamat felt a cold sweat break out on his brow. He blinked several times, then rubbed his hand over his eyes. “Can you risk that?”
“I’ve risked everything, and I’ve lost. This conversation is over.”
Adamat’s throat was dry. He stared at Cheris for several moments until she turned to face him.
“What is it, Inspector? Can’t think of something to say? Am I a dead end? Forgive me for not showing any sympathy. You can tell Ricard I’ll be the downfall of him yet.”
Adamat found his voice and stood up, managing a half bow. “I’m sorry for wasting what little time you have left, my lady.”
Out in the hallway, Adamat gestured for the jailer to lock the door. He leaned against the wall, shivering.
“Adamat?” SouSmith said.
Adamat drew the jailer to the side and gave him a hundred-krana note. “Let me be clear. You are not to let Lady Cheris out of that room. But if she does get out, you are not to stand in her way. Your life may depend on it. Tell the field marshal I gave you those instructions.”
Adamat found himself running down the stairs, with SouSmith hurrying to keep up. Outside, Adamat practically leapt into his waiting hackney cab. “Go home, SouSmith,” he said. “I think we’re done here. You’ve been the greatest of help.” He banged on the roof. “Across the square,” he ordered, and they took off, leaving SouSmith with a confused expression outside of Sablethorn.
Adamat ran up all five flights of stairs to the top of the People’s Court, his lungs near to bursting when he reached the top. He showed his papers to Tamas’s soldiers and ignored the secretary who told him to wait, shoving his way into Tamas’s office. His chest was tight, and he was spurred on by sudden fear.
Tamas looked up from his desk, where he was reading by the light of a lantern. “Inspector?”
“Lady Cheris,” Adamat gasped. “She doesn’t have a shadow. She’s Brude’s other half. And that’s not all.”
Tamas shot to his feet. “Tell me.”
“Claremonte’s troop transports are riding high in the water. He’s left behind at least five hundred men.”
Chapter 48
The election was held early on the morning of the last day of autumn.
Adamat stood near the window of Ricard’s office in the Kinnen Hotel. To his great consternation, he was unable to keep from wringing his hands as he watched the constant flow of people passing in the street below. Today was the second of two days of a national holiday. The polls had been opened at six in the morning the day before and had closed well after midnight. A delegation of Novi vote counters had spent all night with the ballots. By noon, word should come back on the results of the election.
And then they’d find out if a god could keep his word.
There was so much left unanswered. Adamat didn’t like the loose ends. No explanation of Claremonte’s involvement in the Kez-Adran War, or Cheris allowing herself to be imprisoned, or even why Claremonte cared about the election in Adro to begin with.