The next day my head and back ached like hell and I couldn’t figure out where I was as I stared at the room’s blank white walls. Then I groaned and sat up on the hard, flat bed, pushing off a pile of white comforters and sheets. My clothes were still heaped in a pile by the bed, which meant Droit hadn’t been in the room since I crashed. He was the neatest sociopath I’d ever met.
I stood, rummaged through my crumpled coat until I found my cigars, held one for a moment, and then reluctantly tucked it away again. I supposed Droit wouldn’t like me smoking in his house, and since he’d let me crash there for the night, I figured I owed him that much.
The spare bedroom’s wardrobe held an assortment of clothes in different sizes and styles. One of the dressing gowns fit reasonably well, so I cinched it around my waist and barefooted out into the hall.
Droit’s bedroom was next to mine; I couldn’t help peeking through the open door. Like the rest of the house, it didn’t say much about its owner. The furnishings were sparse, the bed made. The only thing worth looking at was a slender, glowing white sword hanging on the wall by the bed. I drew in a sharp breath. I knew what it was, of course — Might, a legend in itself. The infamous fixed balesword gifted to Droit by the Sovereign of Hell. I just hadn’t expected to see it hanging up on a wall, all alone and unprotected.
I studied it for a couple of minutes, wondering what it would be like to touch it, and whether doing so would kill me or just drive me mad. I’d heard lots of stories about Tegeus Droit carrying that thing into battle. Funny that Yzyrchye hadn’t taken it back when Droit had quit working as its champion.
The sharp scent of tea drifted up the stairs and I turned away, glad I hadn’t known it was in the house last night, when I’d gone to sleep.
Droit was in the kitchen, fixing a cup. He was already cleaned and clothed, although the stack of knives on the kitchen table indicated that he was still accessorizing. I didn’t seen any sign of a servant and guessed he didn’t trust strangers in his house. The fact that he’d let me in was either a compliment or an insult; I wasn’t sure which.
“What time is it?” I asked, dropping into a chair and studying his knife collection. Even after seeing him disarm at the Hall of Records, I couldn’t figure out how he strapped them all on. They must add another ten pounds to his weight. No wonder he was strong.
“Still early.” Droit began preparing a second cup. The man used to nail his enemies to church doors. Hard to reconcile that image with his fussy tea-making. “I’m surprised you’re up.”
“Got a lot on my mind.”
He finished the cup and slid it over, then opened the lid to a second kettle. It reeked of his green swill.
“None for me, thanks,” I said, quickly.
“It’ll make you feel better.” He poured two glasses and set them down, then took the seat across from me. I stared at him.
“You really drink this?”
“Every day.” He chugged it like water.
“Can’t imagine many of your boyfriends stay for breakfast a second time, if this is what you offer them.”
His eyebrows arched. “Would you like to know what I offer my boyfriends?”
“Not in this lifetime. Why don’t you carry Might anymore?”
“It’s too dangerous.”
“Why?” I took a sip of the green stuff and made a face. “Does Yzyrchye want it back?”
“No. Not that.” He began sliding weapons into the various sheaths hidden inside his clothes. “It’s too dangerous to other people. Sovereign Lament asked me not to carry it within city limits, and it suits me to comply.”
“Does it really make you invulnerable?”
“More or less.”
“Huh.” I took another sip of the concoction, then steeled myself and knocked it back it as fast as I could while holding my breath. I gasped and drained my tea as a chaser. “Is it true you sold your soul for it?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Droit sounded annoyed. I’d hit a nerve at last. “There’s no such thing as a soul. Yzyrchye and I simply made a business arrangement. It ended when I retired. Yzyrchye left me the sword as a … as an open invitation.”
“Nice. Well, you might need it, if we keep fighting sentinels.” Most of me didn’t believe him, but a little tiny bit of me wasn’t so sure. “Anyway, I want to go to Bright Street today to see what we’ve got on the kiddy-nappings. Thought I might visit Elliot again and see if he knows something about those topaz rings, too.”
“Sounds dull.”
“You don’t have to come.”
“I’ll think about it. In the meantime, get dressed. You can borrow clean clothes from my wardrobe, if you like. …In fact, I insist. Your clothes are filthy.”
I shook my head and headed back upstairs. This from a guy who used to pull people’s beating hearts from their chests.
The morning was bitterly cold, and dark clouds were piling up over the ocean. I shivered and shoved my hands deep into my greatcoat pockets. Despite my warning, Droit hadn’t brought Might with him. Instead, he was carrying the sword he’d taken off the constable yesterday. I wondered why he liked it so much. And what that constable was doing for a weapon now.
We split up in Parkside. Droit went to find out what Aronson had learned about Shaze — I suspected he was simply hoping to get into a fight with his cousin to alleviate his boredom — and I fished out Elliot’s address from my coat pocket. Too early? But I wanted to ask him about the rings now, and he woudn’t be at work for hours. I struggled with myself a few minutes, then headed to Elliot’s flat down in the lower Markets. This was business, not pleasure, I told myself, firmly.
Elliot made me wait outside for fifteen minutes before he let me in. He’d pulled a blanket over an unmade bed and thrown on trousers and a baggy sweater. His hair stood on end, as though he’d forgotten to comb it after getting out of bed.
“Arcady, it’s early,” he protested. “Did you forget that I work late?”
“Sorry.” I picked my way through stacks of books to sit next to his small table. It was covered with his work. “I need your help again.”
I pulled out the topaz ring from the dead sentinel and held it out.
“Does this mean anything to you? Some assholes in robes and masks coshed me last night, and at least several of them were wearing these rings.”
“Wait, what?”
I gave him a quick rundown that had him frowning and checking my head.
“You’re all black and blue!” he exclaimed, tugging the back of my coat and shirt down. I winced a little. “What did they hit you with?”
“I don’t know. Something hard.” I shrugged my clothes back into place as he stepped back. “Good thing my head isn’t a vital organ.”
“Ha ha.” He was still frowning. “Have you seen a doctor?”
“Um … yes.” Axton was sort of a doctor, wasn’t he? And he hadn’t seemed too worried, so I assumed that meant I’d be all right. I held out the ring. “Can you help me?”
He opened one of the shutters and held up the ring to the grey morning light. I watched, bemused, as his expression shifted from concern to fascination. He pushed his spectacles up on his forehead and squinted more closely at the gemstone.
“There’s a mark in here, etched on the bottom of the gem itself. Not good for the value, but I’ve read about this kind of thing before….”
“Do you recognize it?”
“Right offhand, no.” He set the ring down and paced around his flat, plucking up books from his piles and thumbing through them. A few were set back on the floor, others moved to the table. “Give me a minute.”
I must have closed my eyes at some point. When I opened them again, he was ensconced across from me, several books open in front of him, writing.
“Did you — ?”
He looked up, his expression grim.
“Have you ever heard of the Banishat?”
“No.”
He turned one of the open books around toward me. I looked at the sketch of a ring and a rune.
“It’s the same?”
“Yes. They were supposed to be a cult of rogue, Yzyrchye-worshipping sentinels during Sovereign Mihangel Lament’s rule, about seventy years ago. He blamed them for everything, but after he went mad and died, a secret library was found in his chambers, filled with forbidden books. This—”
“What kind of forbidden books?”
“Adjuration, I believe.”
“I’ve never heard of the Vigilance forbidding books.”
Elliot shrugged.
“I’m just telling you what the histories say. Anyway, his children, Violet and Vinter, declared that he’d confiscated the books from captured members of the Banishat, but —”
“They were sentinels,” I interrupted. “I’ve heard the stories.”
“Right; the royal sentinels. They were interred in the Cislunar Cathedral, and when their coffins were exhumed twenty years ago during the cathedral’s reconstruction, they were opened and examined by a group of University scholars. Both twins were wearing signet rings on their fingers.” Elliot turned another book around.
The Banishat rings and the royal sentinels’ rings were identical.
“Why would the king’s kids belong to the same group he’d been hunting down?” I asked.
“Exactly! Mihangel Lament blamed the Banishat for killing his wife immediately after the twins’ birth. What if the Banishat were real and his children were — I don’t know — somehow brainwashed into joining it, right under his nose? Or maybe they joined the Banishat to act as spies for their father….”
I shook my head. “Did anyone at the University talk about these rings?”
“I’ll have to go back to the Hall of Records to find out … or check in the University library. But for the moment, I’m going to suggest that the people who attacked you are Banishat — or modeling themselves after the historical Banishat.”
“Seventy years ago…” Not impossibly long for a conspiracy to persist, although long enough that I would have expected somebody to talk. “Would you mind looking into this for me? I know you’ve got work to do, but —”
“You said they threatened you with nix.”
“Yeah.”
“Then this is linked to an active Watch case, and I can prioritize it for you. My assistants can run the hall while I’m researching.”
“I appreciate it.” I met his eyes. “Really. I can’t do this kind of research. Having you on the case will be a real help.”
He picked up the ring and handed it to me.
“Be careful who you ask about this.”
“Yeah. I’m hoping our arch-sentinel ain’t part of it, or else when she gets my report on her desk this morning, she’s gonna to reel me in and carve me up like a harpooned whale.”
Elliot bit his lip and looked worried. The expression looked good on him, mostly because it meant he cared if I got killed.
“You said you were working with Tegeus Droit and Nobilis Aronson — can they keep you safe?”
“Droit’s just in it for the violence, and I didn’t like the way Aronson was looking at you.” I shrugged. “I’d just as soon keep all of you apart.”
He laughed.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Arcady.”
“Hey, until you tell me to get lost, I’m standing my ground.”
“You don’t need to get lost.” He made a face. “But I would appreciate it if you were a little more careful. General Droit can’t possibly be a good influence on you. Nobilis Aronson seemed to have nice manners, though.”
“Hey, I’ve got nice manners. Don’t make me jealous.”
“You’re the one partnering with the rich and famous.” He gestured to the book-filled room around him with disparagement. “Or infamous, in General Droit’s case.”
“Don’t worry — I’m not his type.” I decided not to tell him where I’d spent the night. It would take too much explaining.
“Well, you never know; Aronson might be mine.” His eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “If I didn’t have a pushy Watch captain around to distract me.”
“I ain’t going nowhere,” I promised, grinning. “And Aronson’s got baggage. Blue lizards, remember?”
“I remember.” His eyes twinkled, and to hell with my aching back — I stood and leaned over the table and kissed him. I didn’t miss, either. Didn’t even knock over too many of his books. He started, eyes widening. I held my breath until his lips twitched up into an uncertain smile. My heart started beating again.
Take that, Aronson.
“Very pushy,” he said, glancing down and adjusting his glasses. His cheeks were tinted crimson. “You’re going to make our professional relationship difficult to maintain, Captain Lorencz.”
“Don’t know what came over me. Must have been that crack on the head.” I gave him a more sober look. “You be careful, too. If these Banishat cullies find out you’re researching them, they may try to nix you, too. And that’d break my heart.”
“Hmmm.” He glanced at me, then nodded to himself, as if deciding something. “I’ll be careful. Should I send what I find to Bright Street Station?”
“Sure, or I’ll stop by later and find you.” I scooped up the ring and tried real hard to wipe the stupid smile off my face. “Thanks again, Elliot.”
“You’re welcome, Arcady.”
We stood motionless for a moment, neither of us knowing quite what to do — somehow going around the table for a hug seemed awkward, so I just waved and let myself out. It was okay; I was still feeling more cheerful than I had in days.
I visited the Market’s Watch station and dropped off the ring with a request to have the carvings traced through the jewelers’ and goldsmiths’ guild. The day captains in the Market were good, and I knew they’d find things out more efficiently than I could on my own.