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  Elaine flushed. She was used to Daria’s light teasing – and she tried to give as good as she got – but being teased by an Inquisitor was surreal. And yet part of her had wondered if Bee had been...encouraged to show an interest in her to see what she would do, if anything. Finding out that he wasn’t, if that was the truth, was reassuring. And yet...

  Inquisitors weren’t supposed to be able to lie, but it was fairly easy to bend the truth creatively without breaking their oaths and vows they swore when they took office. What if Bee wasn’t working directly for them, yet had been pushed towards her by someone other than Daria, or if one of his old contacts had suggested that he should show an interest. Dread could presumably tell what he thought was the truth, but one of the other Inquisitors knew perfectly well was a lie. Just how well did Inquisitors work together anyway? She’d never heard of more than two of them involved in anything, apart from policing the streets during festivals and the Grand Sorcerer’s funeral. Their reputation was normally terrifying enough to keep even the rowdiest of street thugs under control.

  “You might want to ask him who he’s actually working for,” Dread added, as he bent over the coffin and started to work a complicated series of incantations over the stone lid. “He works for someone who wants more patronage in the city, someone who has an interest in who comes out ahead in the coming contest. And if he had reason to believe that your talent could swing the contest in someone’s favour...”

  Elaine’s eyes narrowed. “Who...?”

  “Ask him,” Dread said. He stepped back from the coffin and shook his head. “There’s nothing here, not any longer. I was a fool to think I would find anything here. If he was cursed, or charmed into killing himself, all of the traces are long gone.”

  He straightened up. “It’s time to go meet the Wizard Trebuchet, Court Wizard to King Hildebrand,” he added. “Do you think his staff will try to delay us while he starts climbing out the window?”

  Elaine stared at him. “Does that happen very often?”

  “You’ll be surprised what a guilty conscience can make someone do,” Dread assured her. “And how stupid they can be if they realise that they don’t have any way to escape justice...”

  He shrugged. “At least the smart ones can be entertaining,” he added. “We spent months rounding up all the fetches one particularly dangerous wizard had created.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I’m afraid that the Wizard Trebuchet is busy,” his assistant said. She was young, barely three years younger than Elaine herself, wearing the robes of someone who had graduated with honours from the Peerless School. Elaine disliked her on sight, although she couldn’t have said whether it was because the girl was beautiful – with long red hair and bright green eyes – or because she had an air of irritating competence. “He does not have time to see anyone...”

  Dread held out his skull ring and glared at the assistant. “I am afraid that we are here on a rather more vital matter than anything that could possibly prevent him from seeing us,” he said. “Now, unless you wish to bar the path of an Inquisitor, which will have dire consequences for the rest of your career...”

  The girl started to mutter a charm, power building up in the surrounding air. Dread gave it a hard look and the half-completed spell fragmented into nothingness. “You may want to learn to cast spells without advertising your intentions to your opponent,” he said, with surprising mildness. “Although it remains to be seen if your future career will include magic.”

  He made no motion, but the girl’s form flashed blue and then froze below the neck. “You are under arrest for attempting to impede the path of an Inquisitor,” he said, in the same mild voice. “Your case will be decided by the next Grand Sorcerer, when one is finally appointed. Until then, I suggest that you wait here until we emerge and can take you away to a holding cell.”

  The girl stared at him frantically, all of her arrogance gone. “But what should I tell anyone who comes to visit the Court Wizard...?”

  “You can tell him that the Court Wizard is very busy,” Dread informed her. He smiled, rather coldly. “It will actually have the benefit of being true, now. Won’t it?”

  Shaking his head, he motioned for Elaine to follow him as he walked around the girl’s desk and through a pair of wooden doors. Elaine took one last look at the helpless girl – perhaps she could free herself, although it was difficult to cast such charms while one’s hands were unable to move – but where could she go if she did escape? Every Inquisitor, military soldier and city guardsman would be looking for her. The Inquisition had a long reach and it never forgot a slight, or a culprit. And just what had been going through the girl’s mind when she’d tried to block Dread’s path?

  “She may have grown an overstated view of her own position,” Dread observed, when Elaine finally risked asking the question. “Or maybe she has orders from her superior to bar anyone’s path when he’s...busy. The problem with sending out Court Wizards is that some of them decide that they can get away with taking money to look the other way from time to time. We already know that Trebuchet is taking money from the King.”

  Elaine stared at him. “How do we know that?”

  Dread smiled. “You should have spent more time outside the Golden City,” he said, pointing one long finger at the door. “There, a wooden door is common; even the poorest families can afford wood for their furniture or even to burn in their fires. But here, wood is sparse and rarely used for anything if there’s a substitute. A wooden door is the height of luxury.”

  “But someone could kick it down,” Elaine pointed out. “Or simply steal it...”

  “There are charms woven through it to make that an...unpleasant experience,” Dread said. “Trebuchet may be corrupt – the evidence suggests that he’s certainly used his position to enrich himself – but I don’t think he’s stupid.”

  Elaine kept her opinion to herself as Dread pulled out his staff and used the iron-tipped wood to push the door open slowly. She could hear a kind of grunting sound, accompanied by gasps that didn’t sound as if they came from a male throat. Dread stepped into the room, pulling his cloak around his body, and snickered coldly. Elaine followed him in and stopped, dead. An immensely fat man was sitting in a comfortable chair, wearing nothing at all, while a naked young woman knelt between his legs, taking his penis in and out of her mouth. The girl stopped and stared in horror, before letting out a yelp and running as if all the demons in recorded history were after her. Dread watched her go, and then turned his attention squarely on Trebuchet. The magician, who was trying frantically to cover himself, seemed just as horrified as Elaine felt.

  “I would suggest that you simply use a charm to conceal your...delicate parts from us,” Dread said, dryly. “It would probably save time.”

  He sat down and faced Trebuchet squarely, motioning for Elaine to stand behind him. “I see why your assistant was so intent on telling us that you were busy,” he added. “How much of your time do you spend attending to your orders from the Regency Council and how much of your time do you spend indulging yourself? I see that that girl wasn’t exactly a slave...”

  “Her mother wants an introduction at court when the next season comes around,” Trebuchet said, sullenly. “I...”

  “Was merely using her to push her daughter into satisfying your urges,” Dread injected, sharply. “And besides, unless that girl’s mother gave birth when she was a little baby herself, she would be too old for the next social season.”

  “Her family came into money,” Trebuchet admitted. “There’s nothing quite like a middle-aged woman who thinks that she should have been a social queen and is intent on making up for lost time.”

  “Did you think to remind her that keeping up appearances in the Golden City can be extremely costly?” Dread asked, coolly. “Or do you not care what happens when she gets there and discovers that a single dress can cost more money than there is in this entire Kingdom?”

  “That isn’t any of my concern
,” Trebuchet said, quickly. “I provide a service...”

  Dread used his staff to hit the floor, hard enough to make a sharp noise. “You are put out here to serve the interests of the Regency Council, not to have your knob sucked by girls pimped to you by their own mothers,” he said, sharply. “We are here to investigate the affairs of the late Duke Gama, brother to your master and uncle to his heir. What happened on the day that he died?”

  Trebuchet swallowed, hard. “I made a full report to the Grand Sorcerer,” he said, quickly. Elaine had to smile. The Grand Sorcerer’s death would have been sensed by every magician in the world. “I assume that you have access to it.”

  “Let us assume, for the sake of argument, that I haven’t bothered to read it,” Dread said, very patiently. “What happened on the day that he died?”

  “I...I was woken up in the morning by my maid, who said that there was an urgent message from the castle,” Trebuchet said, finally. He didn’t seem to remember very clearly, something that puzzled Elaine. Come to think of it, surely Dread should have been able to read the report he’d sent back to the Grand Sorcerer. “I put all of that in my report...”

  Dread’s patience seemed to come to an abrupt end. “I read your report very carefully,” he said, with an icy tone in his voice. “I read it very carefully and noted all the questions that you left unanswered. And they started with a very obvious question. What happened to cause his death?”

  Trebuchet glared at him, trying to maintain what was left of his dignity. “I attended upon the corpse at once,” he said, finally. “The doctors were already there, trying frantically to resurrect him. They wanted me to try spells that might give him a chance to live, but of course I refused...”

  Elaine winced. Of course he had refused. If someone was that far gone, a spell intended to heal him might bring back an unsound mind in a healthy body – or bring back one of the undead, intent on eating its way through the living population. Even without a guiding mind, the slaughter would have been terrifying. And Trebuchet would have been accused of necromancy and unceremoniously burnt at the stake. It was a punishment intended to ensure that the necromancer had no hope of surviving past his own death.

  “Of course,” Dread agreed. “And what did the message actually say?”

  “That Duke Gama was dying and that my presence was needed,” Trebuchet said. “I went to the bed, checked the body, and watched him die. The light went out of his eyes and that was the end of a once-proud man...”

  Dread leaned forward. “Did he try to say anything to you before he died?”

  “Just gasps and moans,” Trebuchet said. “I couldn’t make out a single word.”

  Elaine blinked in surprise. “The official report said that he commended his elder brother and wished his nephew the best of reigns,” she said. “Was that a lie?”

  “They always put crap like that in the official reports,” Dread said, dryly. If he was irritated at her interruption, he didn’t show it. “You’d be surprised to discover how many famous last words were actually written by their surviving heirs and inserted into the history books.”

  “Sir,” Trebuchet said, “I really must protest. This...personage” – he waved at Elaine – “is clearly not an Inquisitor, nor an Advocate...”

  Dread smirked. “Is there a reason you feel you need an Advocate?”

  “I do not have to submit to questioning by someone without official standing,” Trebuchet insisted, firmly. “I have the right to appeal to the Grand Sorcerer...”

  “Who happens to be dead,” Dread said, sharply. “I am sure that the next Grand Sorcerer will punish me for overstepping my bounds, but the task of hunting down rogue magicians doesn’t actually stop between Grand Sorcerers.” His eyes narrowed. “And I do not have to allow you an Advocate if I feel that it would place a barrier between me and the truth. Your rights do not exist during an official Inquisition. I suggest you remember that.”

  He leaned forward. “As it happens, this young woman is a potential candidate for the Inquisition,” he added. “She has every right to be here, although I may banish her outside to talk to your assistant if I feel it necessary.”

  But an Inquisitor couldn’t lie... Elaine realised, a moment later, that he hadn’t exactly lied. Everyone who’d been through a magical accident that might have enhanced their power would be a potential candidate for the Inquisition, particularly if their power had actually been enhanced sharply. It would be one way to keep someone with rogue talents firmly under control. But Elaine, with a head stuffed full of knowledge she could barely use...what would they make of her when they found out the truth? She doubted they’d let her run free in a world where powerful sorcerers could use what she knew to turn themselves into necromancers.

  “I hope she is as...accommodating,” Trebuchet said, finally. There was a tone in his voice that made Elaine flush. How could anyone think that of her? But Millicent hadn’t hesitated to use her body to get whatever she wanted and the girl Dread had frozen was clearly in the same mould. “I was unaware that Inquisitors were allowed to have...assistants.”

  Dread ignored the jab. “You were there when Duke Gama died,” he said, returning to the original topic. “Who was there with you?”

  “The King was there, holding his brother’s hand,” Trebuchet said. “The Prince wanted to attend, but his father sent him out and ordered his two stalwart companions to make sure that the Prince stayed away from the body. They did as they were told, even though their friend tried to fight them. The King’s wrath would have been painful to see.”

  Elaine felt an odd flicker of sympathy for the Prince. She wouldn’t have wanted to see any of her family members slipping away into the next world, but at least the Prince had family members. Perhaps not having any made her more inclined to be sympathetic to a young man’s desire to say goodbye to his uncle, even though it would be a terrible thing to watch. There were stories of those who watched Death come for their families, trying to fight the personification of Death herself, or trying to bargain with her, offering their lives in exchange for the dying man. Some of the stories did imply that Death would bargain if she were offered something worthy of her attention.

  But they were just stories, weren’t they? Except the knowledge in her mind suggested ways and means of summoning the seven cosmic abstracts, the personifications of the endless attributes of the universe. They were powerful beyond belief, but they could be controlled...if the sorcerer who had tried to summon them was very lucky. Some magicians were even supposed to be able to see Death when she finally came for them.

  Dread’s words brought her out of her trance. “Once the Duke was confirmed dead,” he said coldly, “what did you do?”

  “I ordered the druids and clerics out of the room and sealed it with a binding ward,” Trebuchet said. “I put out the fire and worked a standard preserving charm over the body, and then ran through the basic tests for poison, dark enchantments and other issues that might have shortened his life. As I wrote in my report” – he shot Dread a defiant look – “I found nothing that might have suggested that the Duke was...encouraged to meet an early end. I took samples of his blood, urine and shit, which I sent to the Golden City along with my report.”

  “And I’m sure that the Grand Sorcerer was pleased to receive a crate of shit,” Dread muttered.

  “The druids found nothing, I am sure,” Trebuchet said, nastily. “I would have heard if they had found something to alarm us...”

  “They said nothing to me about it,” Dread said. Elaine wondered if that was another half-truth, something said to distract attention from a greater truth. There was no reason that the druids had to report to Dread. “What did you do after you had checked for poison and curses?”

  “I called the King back in, along with his chief druid, and formally pronounced the Duke dead,” Trebuchet said. He sounded as if he were on surer ground now. “The King took his signet ring and placed it in the castle vault for the next second son, once the Prince
has a couple of children of his own, and then prayed over the body. Bells were rung to signify the departure of the Duke’s soul, after which we attended a big service where we commended his soul to the mountains. I had the body transferred to the vault” – he pretended not to see Elaine’s flinch – “and then wrote my first report to the Grand Sorcerer. It was sent down to the iron dragon, taken to Pendle and then teleported to the Golden City.”

  “You appear to have followed procedure,” Dread observed, calmly. “What happened to the Duke’s possessions?”

  “I had certified that the Duke had died of natural causes – or at least as natural as one can get when a person seemed intent on eating himself to death,” Trebuchet said. “That meant that his will could be read and the first bequests distributed in line with the provisions in the document. The Prince received most of his uncle’s possessions, although some thousand crowns were put aside for the Duke’s illegitimate son. I’m afraid that his wife was barren.”

  “You mean her husband’s brother saw to it that she could never have children,” Dread said. Elaine looked at him sharply. Why would anyone refuse to allow their sister-in-law to have children? But from an aristocratic point of view, it limited the number of potential heirs or ambitious relatives who might have tried to claim the throne. The last thing a kingdom as small as Ida needed was a civil war. “What happened to his bastard son?”

  “Oh, the Duke was most generous to him,” Trebuchet assured the Inquisitor. “He played with the King’s son and daughter, became one of their knights...there was no reason to think that his lowly birth stood in his way to becoming a great man in his own right...

  “...but then he left.”

  Dread’s eyes narrowed. “Left? Left where?”

  “He just left Ida and vanished into the surrounding countryside,” Trebuchet admitted. “There was no reason for it as far as anyone could see. The Duke treated him as a natural son, he wouldn’t have inherited the kingdom even if he had been a natural son...the gods know what happened to him.”