"Cast some divinations tomorrow," Auri ordered, turning to explore the rest of the cellar, which was large and high-ceilinged, and featured a central casting circle. Almost all the walls were out of her range, however, and so she shrugged and headed back upstairs to flit through the top two floors.
The attic was long and almost as clear as the cellar—perhaps again to offer a place for mages to cast—so there was little in reach to search.
"How long do we stay here?" Auri asked, singing to herself—ta ta TUM—while taking a few dancing steps on the long, bare floorboards.
"It was going to be a week, while Lady Claire reviewed the house contents. But we’re running late, and the rest of the Sentene will arrive soon, so I don’t know if we’ll leave for the Forest of Semarrak on the expected date, or delay. After that, it depends on whether the divination to locate Prince Helecho ever stops pointing west. But no matter whether he’s dealt with, or we can’t find him, we’re going to winter here to avoid the snows."
Auri’s positive mood was fading, and she rubbed her arms in the doubled chill of the Dream and the attic. "Will Mrs Pardons really be able to take care of Father until spring?"
"I hope so. She’ll at least have enough to feed him, presuming the Arkathan’s fee refund went through. Having seen this place, I now understand why Duchess Surclere was so disinterested in charging for lessons, even though she could ask almost anything and people would pay it."
"Can you—"
Auri broke off. Someone had come up the attic stair, so quietly that Fallon hadn’t even noticed until a man passed right through him.
"Who is this?" Auri asked.
"I don’t know. Probably one of the servants Duchess Surclere’s agent engaged? But that’s…" Fallon frowned in the dim greyness of the attic. The man was carrying a small collection of books, and clearly attempting to move as quietly as possible.
"Do you think he found the secret library?" Auri trailed after the man.
"Is…I think that top book’s one of the instruction texts Lieutenant Meniar brought along," Fallon said, blankly.
"Oh? It’s a real spy?" Auri reached the limit of her tether and clicked her tongue in irritation.
The man walked into the gloomy far reaches of the attic, and knocked on the walclass="underline" a trio of double-beats. After a tense moment there was a muffled clunk, and then the wall opened a crack. The man slipped hurriedly through, and the wall sealed shut behind him.
"Quickly!" Auri said, and they raced downstairs.
Fallon hurled himself back into his body, and woke with a start, then leapt out of bed, or tried to, landing on the floor with a thump. He staggered back to his feet and snatched open the door, then stopped.
What did he think he was going to do? Rouse the house and lead them in a charge on an empty attic?
Don’t tell anyone or I’ll kill you. Just words, a throw-away phrase, but Sigillic Magic was also just words, and power to give their intent form. At times he would start choking when all he’d done was think about trying to find a way to explain about Auri. How could he possibly warn the Sentene about the thief, and the hidden exit, without touching on just how he knew?
Feeling heavy as lead, he turned back, but only to fetch his slate book. Then, far less precipitately, he headed for the attic.
It was, at least, not as chilly as it had been in the dream. Autumn in the south was pleasant enough when it wasn’t raining. Fallon stopped at the central point where he and Auri had been, then rubbed his temple, feeling a headache coming on. Now what? A trap for when the servant returned? If he claimed that he’d heard a noise, followed the man up here… Or perhaps he could pretend he was up so late in order to win approval by finding the hidden library. They’d believe that of him, and once a divination had revealed this hidden exit, the Sentene would naturally investigate, even though the people involved might be long gone by then.
"What are we doing?" asked an interested voice.
Fallon started and whirled to find a maskless and bare-chested Imperial Observer at the head of the attic steps, with a rather more clothed Sukata just behind him. Both were armed. Kellian hearing would explain Sukata, but Samarin had been asleep. He’d not only woken, but collected a sword and followed?
"I—" The various excuses Fallon had been weighing fled his mind, and already he could feel his throat start to close. "N-noise," he stammered. "Or dream." The choking worsened, and he looked wildly around the attic for some excuse, some reason that would make the pressure go away, then gasped, despairingly: "Nothing! There’s nothing here."
As performances went, this one would likely lead to Fallon being accused of theft, once the books were discovered to be missing. Certainly neither Samarin nor Sukata looked for a moment like they believed him.
"Nothing certainly makes you flustered," Samarin said, eyebrows climbing. "Shall we look around, since we’re here?"
"I…had a…had a…" Fallon made himself stop, and firm his mind. Better to not try to explain at all.
The same keen hearing that had exposed his hunt now saved him, as Sukata turned her head sharply, then walked swiftly to the end of the attic, blending into the shadows so thoroughly that it looked like her night robe was walking on its own. That robe stopped directly in front of the hidden door. Dezart Samarin, not slow on the uptake, followed to press an ear to the wood.
"Fallon," Sukata said, in her thin voice. "Please ask the Lieutenants and Lord Surclere to join us."
Relieved, Fallon left at a trot. He already knew Lieutenant Faral was on watch on the ground floor, and it was the simplest of things to tell her and then just trail along behind as she woke Lieutenant Meniar and Lord Surclere.
When they reached the attic, Fallon found that Dezart Samarin had collected both a shirt, and his mask, though he didn’t do anything at all, just stood in the background with Fallon as the Kellian burst open the hidden door and effortlessly immobilised the people on the far side.
It wasn’t until the other people in the next house came up to investigate the noise that Fallon understood why Samarin had taken the time to dress. Kolans reacted to that mask. Even Kolans who were convinced that their attic had been broken into in the middle of the night stopped waving fire irons and became meekly obedient as soon as they set eyes on the symbol of their Emperor’s authority.
Fallon waited, mentally rehearsing his chosen explanation. But no-one asked for it and eventually, too weary to care, he went back to bed and let Auri watch the last of the fuss, and Dezart Samarin’s quiet interventions that ensured that books were returned and conspirators taken away.
Spy. Observer. Trouble.
Chapter Fourteen
"I suppose you’d need to be a pretty good mage to own a place like this."
Unlike Sebastian, Sukata never acted like there was anything wrong with Kendall seeing magic simply as a way to earn a living. "It would require a great deal of wealth," the Kellian girl said. "Mages are usually well paid, but one would need to be out of the ordinary to receive recompense on the scale this house requires. Do you wish for something like it?"
"I want this room." Kendall bounced lightly on the cushiony bed with its cleverly carved headboard and brand new linens, then glanced around at the desk and the shelves containing books, ornaments and curios. The place was spacious and bright, and she had liked it the moment she’d walked into it the previous night. Especially the windows, which looked down over the street and had seats built into their bases. The tall panels of glass squares were currently lit by a cherry-pink dawn, and Kendall privately enjoyed how even this relatively mild light could give Sukata a shimmering rosy glow.