The pump room was cluttered with an assortment of mops, brooms, and valve wrenches. Harper wrung the water out of his pant cuffs. His right palm stung. He squeezed his hand closed around the cut. He straightened his cap and left the pump room.
The Inquisition House wasn't empty, but there were fewer men than usual. Most were still out at the Civic Plaza, Harper guessed. He climbed an immaculate white staircase to the third floor. His heart beat in his chest like a jackrabbit in a wire trap. An acolyte passed him. They exchanged brief smiles.
Harper strolled past two more Inquisitors and let himself into the records room with his own key. Once he had pulled the door closed, he raced to the open cases. He flipped rapidly through break-ins, stabbings, robberies, and heresies.
At last he found Edward's name. He was being held as a witness for prosecution against Nick Sariel and another undisclosed suspect. Harper folded the page of charges up, slipped it into his pocket, and then looked over the record of Edward's testimony. Harper knew better than to feel betrayed at seeing his own name disclosed. He hadn't expected Edward to be able to hold out against trained Confessors.
Harper added the testimony to his pocket and then scanned through the files for Nick Sariel's name among Captain Brandson's cases. The file was nearly an inch thick. Harper skipped over Nick Sariel's past crimes and dug out the recent accusations. An unsigned confession waited in the file. Harper found his own initials penciled in several times beside the word accomplice. The handwriting wasn't Brandson's; it was Abbot Greeley's.
For a moment Harper simply stared at the page. He didn't know why it surprised him that Abbot Greeley would frame him for murder. Greeley hated him, and Harper was a liability to him. And yet Harper hadn't expected the abbot to sink so far.
Harper pocketed the confession and then dropped Nick Sariel's entire file inside another sheaf of papers containing cases that were up for dismissal. It was doubtful that Nick would be released, but at least the lost paperwork would delay his interrogation.
From the floors below, Harper heard a rising rumble of voices. The first of the Inquisitors were returning from the false alarm at the Civic Plaza. Soon, men would come bustling in to file their reports. Harper thought he heard familiar voices coming up the stairs.
He slipped out of the records room and took the back stairs down to the first floor. He passed a few other Inquisitors, but they took as little note of him as they did of each other. The broad black lines of his uniform melted into the mass of other Inquisitors on the first floor.
Harper's pulse beat wildly. If he was caught now, he could offer no reasonable explanation. The idea of fighting his way free was ludicrous. Inquisitors were everywhere. The brilliant white halls were filled with the whispers of their black coats. Men bumped and jostled past Harper. For the first time in his life, Harper felt unsafe among them.
From a distance he caught sight of Miller. As usual, Reynolds was beside him. Harper dropped back, pacing himself along-side an acolyte. He kept his gaze averted as Miller and Reynolds passed him.
Just ahead, Harper noted a shock of red hair amidst the sea of black caps. Captain Brandson had forgotten his cap again. Harper whispered silent thanks for that. Miller and Reynolds might not have been watching for him, but Brandson would be.
Harper quickly turned down the hall and took a back corridor to the witness holding cells. He couldn't get past the heavy security in the Prodigal section, but at least he could try to free Edward.
Harper didn't know the young man standing guard, and he hoped that the man didn't recognize him either. Harper stopped himself from pulling his cap a little lower.
"I need to take one of the witnesses down to the engines." Harper paused as if the name weren't burning on his lips. "Talbott. I believe the first name is Edward."
The young guard hardly looked beyond the shining silver insignias on Harper's collar. He scanned through the ledger of the prisoners and then pushed the book and a cell key to Harper. Harper paused only an instant as he glanced at the previous sig-natures in the prisoner ledger. He signed in Brandson's initials, took the key, and went to Edward's cell.
Two cells down another Inquisitor was checking in on a witness of his own. Harper hoped that Edward was still cognizant enough to keep quiet. He unlocked the door and stepped into the small cell.
Edward crouched on a narrow cot with his legs drawn up and his face pressed down into his knees. The confessor had not been gentle with him. His right arm was bandaged from the elbow down. Splints jutted out from under his first two fingers. Edward didn't even glance up.
"Don't take me back there," Edward whispered. "I'll sign what-ever you want. Just don't take me back."
Harper closed the cell door and strode to Edward. He clamped his hand over Edward's mouth and tilted his head back. Edward looked up into Harper's face. His eyes went wide and he gave a muffled gasp against Harper's gloved palm.
"I can get you out of here," Harper whispered, "but afterward you're going to be a wanted man."
Edward nodded. Harper drew his hand back. He was shocked when Edward lunged forward and gripped him in a hard, desperate embrace.
"Will, thank God you came! Thank God," Edward whispered against Harper's neck.
It felt good to have Edward so close against his body, but for all the wrong reasons. Harper returned the hug briefly, then pulled back. "We're not out of here yet. You have to keep calm, all right?"
"Yes, of course." Edward swallowed a deep breath of air and nodded.
"Are you hurt anywhere aside from your arm?"
"Some bruises, that's all."
"Good." Harper unclipped his silver handcuffs and closed one of the cuffs around Edward's uninjured left hand. He locked the other around his own right wrist, but so loosely that he could easily slip his hand free.
"One last thing. The old woman I left with you, do you know where they took her?" Harper asked.
"They didn't take her anywhere." Edward closed his eyes for a moment. "They killed her."
"Of course. She was the only witness." A chill rushed through Harper as he realized how effortlessly Abbot Greeley disposed of the people who opposed him.
"We have to go." Harper opened the door and walked Edward out into the hall. He had been worried that Edward might give them away, but Edward kept his head down and walked with the slow dread of a prisoner on his way to the prayer engines.
Harper handed the cell key to the guard and took the prisoner ledger. As he glanced over the ledger, he noticed that Captain Brandson's initials appeared only a column below where Harper had signed them. Brandson hadn't noticed that he had already been signed in. The same initials twice weren't that noticeable, but a third time would be apparent, even to the careless young guard. Harper copied another three initials from higher in the ledger and then slid the book back to the guard.
Without waiting for the young man to respond, Harper pulled Edward forward and headed down the main hall of the Inquisition House. He had to fight his own urge to move fast. It was the sheerest luck that Brandson hadn't noticed the forged initials when he signed the ledger. Harper had no doubt that Brandson would notice them when he left the cells.
Once they reached the back stairs, Harper slipped the hand-cuffs off and urged Edward ahead.