Chapter 201

“Please tell me you found something,” I pleaded.

“It didn’t go well with the governorness?” Iolite asked.

“It went smashingly. She's a peach. Probably doesn't even step on ants by accident.”

Iolite tilted her head. “Is that sarcasm?”

“No.” I rubbed at my eyes. “She genuinely has no idea people are disappearing. She thinks she told the Covenant to fuck off because they were up to something and she didn't trust them. And, lo and behold, they're up to something and she shouldn't trust them.”

I let out a long breath. “But if she's on Amberleigh's list, he has to know something. He wouldn't put innocent people on there.”

“Perhaps he is simply trying to keep you occupied.”

I stopped walking.

The words settled uncomfortably in my chest.

Was this busywork? Was Amberleigh trying to keep me away from something else? Did he not trust me to help find the Queen? Did he not trust me to help keep Arvellia together?

No.

He didn't. Not entirely.

I was the kingdom's problem child. Things exploded around me. Wars started. Dragons burned villages. New gods appeared. Old gods died. Eldritch horrors crawled out of places they had absolutely no business crawling out of.

I was many things - subtle wasn't one of them.

“No,” I said finally. “The kingdom's teetering on the edge of civil war. He wouldn't send me out here to antagonize nobles who might rally against the Queen if I screw this up. We've already found people helping the Covenant. And there's a very real chance my involvement makes everything worse.”

I sighed. “Which means he didn't have anyone else he trusted to send. Which means he doesn't trust his own people anymore.”

The words tasted bitter. “Which means things are worse than I thought.”

She nodded slowly. “Your presence correlates strongly with catastrophe.”

I stared at her.

“You walked into a city yesterday and summoned a tornado.”

I rolled my eyes. “Technically Kaelira summoned the tornado.”

“She summoned it to get to you.”

“THAT IS MY POINT!” I threw my hands into the air. “I'm a disaster magnet! So please, tell me you found something.”

“I found something.”

I froze. “Wait. Really?” A grin spread across my face. “That’s amazing!”

“I did not find anything.”

My smile died. “I- what?”

“You told me to tell you I found something.” She folded her hands in front of her. “So I did.” She gave me the sweetest smile imaginable.

I had absolutely no defense against it. I ran a hand down my face. “You've been spending too much time around me.”

“I have.”

“That's not a compliment.”

“I know.”

I groaned.

“She has many records,” Iolite continued. “I didn’t read them all, but they appear extremely detailed.”

“How many is many?”

“Three hundred seventeen ledgers. Forty-eight document boxes. I did not count the letters, but I estimate somewhere between seven and nine thousand.”

I stared at her. “...Nine thousand letters?”

“Her records seem quite detailed.”

“Fuck.” My shoulders slumped. “It would take a team of auditors two years to go through all of that.”

I started pacing.

“Okay. New plan. I grab the chest we found. We put it back where we found it and hope nobody notices it disappeared.

Iolite nodded. “Then what?”

“We watch the estate again tonight.” I glanced toward the lowering sun. “Tomorrow morning you go back to the boathouse. If that servant returns, I want to know what they're doing.”

“And you?”

“Tomorrow I start digging into this Hawke guy.” I sighed. “Because either Amberleigh's wrong...” I frowned. “Or Lady Fenwick is.”

I looked back toward the distant estate. “And right now, I'd bet on Fenwick.”

* * *

The next night was much like the last.

The healer I'd seen while waiting for my audience departed shortly before sunset. The final visitors trickled out sometime after dusk.

Then the estate settled into its evening routine.

Servants finished cleaning up dinner. Stablehands made their rounds. Lanterns bloomed to life behind stained-glass windows. Shutters were closed against the chill coming off the lake.

Lady Fenwick remained in her study long after most people would have called it a day. The light in her window didn't finally disappear until well past nine.

A while later she emerged onto the balcony with a book in hand and settled into a chair.

One servant brought her a blanket. Another brought tea.

An hour later a light drizzle began to fall, sending her back inside.

Rain whispered across the surface of the lake. Wind rustled through the pines. Waves rolled steadily against the rocky shore.

Iolite sat curled comfortably in my lap, sharing my warmth while my cloak did its best to keep the rain off both of us.

Eventually the eastern sky began to pale. The estate stirred to life slightly earlier than it had the previous morning.

Iolite slipped out of her dress, sank into the earth, and vanished.

I watched from our perch.

A servant emerged from the manor. Not the same servant as yesterday. This time it was a woman.

She followed the lakeshore path to the boathouse, unlocked the door, and stepped inside. She remained there longer than yesterday's servant had, though not long enough to make me particularly suspicious.

When she left, she locked the door behind her and started back toward the estate.

Halfway there she stopped at a small shrine overlooking the water. She knelt. Bowed her head. Perhaps said a prayer. Then rose and continued on her way.

Iolite didn't return immediately.

Minutes stretched by. Long enough that I started to wonder whether she'd found something. Or gotten herself caught.

Eventually the ground stirred beneath me.

Stone flowed upward, reshaping itself into skin and flesh and hair as Iolite emerged beside me and calmly pulled her dress back on.

“She seemed concerned when she entered,” the elemental said.

“How so?”

“She went directly to the chest. Checked everything,” Iolite continued. “Every bundle. Every ledger. She appeared relieved when she confirmed nothing was missing.”

I sat up a little straighter.

“She also carried her own notebook. She copied information from the notebook into the ledger. Then copied information from the ledger into the notebook.”

“Well that's not suspicious at all,” I muttered.

“No,” Iolite agreed. “It was very suspicious.”

I blinked. “What happened after that?”

“She locked everything up and left.” Iolite's lips curved into a small, conspiratorial smile. “I followed her. She stopped at the shrine. There is a small cavity hidden in the stone. She placed a piece of paper inside.”

“A dead drop?”

“Probably.”

“And then?”

“Then she returned to the estate. She informed the head maid that the boathouse inventory was complete.”

“Inventory,” I repeated.

“Then she began her chores.”

I stared at her for several seconds. Slowly, a grin spread across my face. Then I threw my arms around her and pulled her into a hug. “You're amazing.”

Iolite and I retrieved the note from the shrine. The message was brief.

{letter}

Three arrivals.

One unsuitable.

Awaiting further instruction.

-H

{endletter}

That was it. No names. No locations. No explanation.

Just four short lines.

And somehow that made it more unsettling.

People weren't people anymore.

One of them was unsuitable. Unsuitable for what?

The note didn't say.

I read it again. Then a third time.

“Hawke?” Iolite asked.

“Probably.” I put the paper back. “Though I suppose it could be Henrietta. Or Harold. Or Horace.”

“Do you know a Horace?”

“No.”

“Then it is probably Hawke.”

The note didn't prove anything. It didn't even prove a crime had been committed. But it did prove one thing.

Someone inside Lady Fenwick's operation was secretly reporting to someone else.

And if the signature belonged to Hawke, that meant the man responsible for moving people through the system was communicating through dead drops hidden in shrines.

Which was not normal behavior. Unless your definition of normal had become horribly distorted.

Considering the last five years of my life, that was admittedly a possibility.

I sighed. “I need to know more about Hawke.”

Iolite nodded.

“His position. His responsibilities. Who reports to him. Who he reports to.”

“And whether he lies,” she added.

“That too.” Because right now I had a note. A suspicious servant. A dead drop. And a man whose name started with H.

It wasn't enough. Not even close.

If Hawke was involved, I needed to know how this whole machine worked before I started pulling pieces out of it.

Otherwise I was just another idiot yanking on wires and hoping the bomb wasn't attached to the one I picked.

* * *

I arrived at the Fenwick estate early the next morning. Much earlier than the day before.

I didn't feel particularly guilty about it, given what I'd learned about Lady Fenwick's work habits. There was a decent chance she'd already been awake for hours.

Still, I wasn't the first one there.

A man sat waiting in the parlor when I arrived.

He was dressed like a laborer and smelled faintly of wet straw, fermented grain, mud, and ammonia. A pig farmer.

He looked up when I entered. The nervousness on his face was clear as his foot tapped the expensive carpet.

I offered him a smile.

He returned it weakly.

“Pigs?” I asked.

“Huh?”

“Do you work with pigs?”

“Oh.” He blinked. “Yeah. Got two dozen. How'd you know?”

I smiled. “The scent.”

His eyes widened. Immediately he leaned forward and tried to smell himself, looking horrified.

“Don't worry about it,” I said quickly. “The governess isn't going to notice.”

“You sure?”

“Pretty sure.” I chuckled. “The only reason I recognized it is because I keep goats and chickens. They smell different.”

The tension drained from his shoulders. At least a little.

“Have you met the governess before?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“She's nice. Doesn't care where you come from. Doesn't care if you're rich or poor. She genuinely wants to help people.” I leaned back in my chair. “You'll be fine.”

“Good.” He nodded. “Good.”

Silence settled over the room.

After a few minutes he glanced at me. “You, uh... know Lady Fenwick?”

“I met her for the first time yesterday.”

That seemed to surprise him.

“But I'm a pretty good judge of character.” I shrugged. “I'd put her somewhere between upstanding citizen and saint.”

He stared at me for several moments, trying to decide whether I was joking.

Before he could ask, the steward appeared.

“Master Corwin,” he said. “Lady Fenwick will see you now.”

The farmer rose so quickly he nearly forgot his documents.

I gave him a smile and a thumbs-up. The gesture only seemed to confuse him.

Then he disappeared down the hallway.

A little while later a family arrived - mother, father, and two small children.

The younger one sat quietly in his mother's arms and stared at me with the intensity only infants could manage.

The older one seemed determined to dismantle the room one piece at a time.

His father spent most of his energy preventing that from happening.

“Have you ever heard the story of the rabbit and the star?” I asked as the boy attempted to climb onto a side table near me.

He froze. Slowly he turned toward me. It was as if he'd only just noticed another human being existed. He wobbled slightly on unsteady legs.

“Once upon a time,” I began, “there was a rabbit who collected stories.”

As I spoke, I gathered a little mana. Tiny illusions appeared. A rabbit. A falling star. A clever crow. A fox.

The boy's eyes went wide.

The rabbit hopped along the floor. The star drifted lazily overhead. The fox chased its own tail. The crow circled above them all.

The boy reached out to touch them.

I made the rabbit pause and sniff his fingers. The crow landed gently on his shoulder. The fox darted between his feet like an excited kit.

I embellished the story as I went. Added details. Added adventures. Added just enough nonsense to keep a small child invested.

By the end, both children were completely enthralled. Their parents weren't doing much better. Even the mother seemed to have forgotten why they'd come.

The steward returned just as I was finishing.

He paused for a moment, catching the tail end of the story before clearing his throat.

“Lord Grimm, if you'll please follow me.”

The children immediately looked disappointed.

I reached over and ruffled the older boy's hair. “Be good for your parents.”

He nodded solemnly, as though I'd entrusted him with a sacred duty.

I waved to the younger child.

He stared back at me with wide eyes.

Then I followed the steward from the room.