The Inquiry They Paid For
Chris lay sprawled on the parlor sofa in the VIP Guest Pavilion, where the tower lodged its guests.
"Your nose is broken."
An older mage, reputed to be skilled in healing, jammed two thick iron rods up Chris's nostrils and twisted until the broken bone sat straight.
"Agh—"
"It hurts. Endure it."
The mage, who had introduced himself as Horner, set the nasal bone and then knit it closed with a healing spell.
"By the power of my magnificent magic, the swelling will be gone within a day."
He looked over Chris's stomach as well, collected a fee large enough to make a man's eyes bulge, and went out.
Chris pushed himself upright, glanced around the guest quarters, and said, "You might as well have given me that money instead of the treatment."
Four knights occupied the parlor: Knight Commander Yan, Vice-Commander Michael, the ordinary knight Bianca, and John, an old knight who had come from a count's house. For the record, Bianca was a woman. They had arranged themselves in a ring around the sofa where Chris sat. Bianca spoke.
"Leave it untreated and that nose will set crooked. You'd be happy to live the rest of your life with a crooked nose?"
"If that money were mine, a crooked nose would suit me fine."
Yan said, "Chris of Javier Barony. Resident of Lion Pavilion. That is you?"
He had hoped otherwise. Of course it wasn't.
So they really did come for me.
To Chris, the commander of the royal knights stood as high as the sun. Nothing good could come of tangling with a man like that. He braced himself and answered.
"Yes. That's correct."
"I want to hear how you were involved with His Highness."
"Which part...?"
"All of it."
"Telling all of it will take a long time."
"We have time. Begin from the day you first met."
John cut in.
"We'd be grateful if you included even the trivial things. All of them. Please."
"More than four months have passed since His Highness died. I don't understand why you're investigating now."
Bianca exploded.
"We meant to investigate the moment we heard. The magic tower refused to allow it."
A prince died, and they blocked a royal investigation?
"The tower went that far...?"
"They permitted it only after we promised an enormous endowment."
Bianca was still seething, the anger nowhere near spent. Chris scratched his head.
"The culprit is already dead. Is there really any need to investigate, even at the cost of a fortune?"
"You think we'd be satisfied with three nameless corpses burned black as charcoal, so charred we couldn't even tell who they were? You work in the tower. You know perfectly well how many bodies their experiments produce. They might have burned experimental corpses and handed those over."
"You suspected even that."
"Insidious mages. They're the sort who could do worse."
Yan cleared his throat, a warning to mind her tongue, then cautioned her in a hard voice.
"This is the magic tower."
The mages might well be listening. Bianca lowered her head.
"Forgive me. I lost my temper and spoke out of turn."
Chris worried at an eyebrow. The crown had paid a tremendous price and sent the knight commander himself to learn the truth. Taken together, that meant Mark was plainly a son the king had loved. For some reason, the thought pleased him.
"I was there. The bodies were Tony, Smith, and Faye. I'm certain of it."
Yan said, "We want to know what happened, that included. Explain."
Chris drew a breath through his nose and began. About an hour into the account, Bianca stopped him.
"You've painted Alex as a villain from start to finish. Did you dislike him?"
"No."
Chris studied their faces.
"What's strange about it?"
"Alex is the son of a marquis house, and not even a legitimate son—a concubine's child. He isn't a proper mage. He's nothing more than Spirit Awakening, and yet he ignored a prince, mocked him, and tormented him. I can't make sense of it."
"He's rotten to the core. They say success shows a person's true colors. Spirit Awakening simply brought his out."
"We intend to interview others as well. If it turns out you've lied, you won't enjoy what follows."
Chris put on a confident face.
"Of course you should cross-check me."
He took up the story again. The further it went, the darker the knights' expressions grew. The tale of Mark and Tony thrashing desperately to reach Spirit Awakening seemed to weigh on them. Another hour passed, and at last the account reached its heart.
"On the day Mark died, I officially gave up on Spirit Awakening."
Yan asked, "A month still remained. Wasn't that early?"
Chris explained what it meant to have been born a slave. Bianca said, "Being a former slave ought to have made you struggle harder, right to the end."
"You think so?"
"If I had been a slave, I would have."
"The truth is..."
Chris described the test he had faced in the barony, then added, "Honestly, I was never sure whether I had moved the mana and raised that ripple, or moved my arm and raised it, or whether a wind had simply blown and stirred the water."
"I see."
He told them how he and Alice, on their way to the village, had come upon the prince. He left the Mana Helmet out of it. At the part where the prince fell and wept, tears gathered in Bianca's eyes. The other knights did not cry, but their faces were no less bleak than hers. He set out everything that followed the way one gives an alibi, hour by hour, through the moment he returned to Lion Pavilion and found the bodies, and then he let out a long breath.
"I'm parched. May I have some water?"
Old John poured it himself.
"Thank you."
While Chris drank, John asked, "Listening to you, it sounds as if His Highness and Tony were close."
Chris finished the water before he answered.
"Yes. Their stations were similar, so they must have understood each other. A commoner and a slave don't speak easily with people like that."
"Then Tony would have had no reason to kill His Highness."
Chris started to reply, then cocked his head. John was steering the room toward the conclusion that Tony was not the culprit.
Why?
In that instant he remembered that John had come from a count's house. Everyone else belonged to the royal knights. Only he belonged to a count.
Which house was it again?
Chris searched his memory. The man had named the house and nothing else—no family name. Thinking of Tony's surname, he asked, "Sir, would you happen to be of House Gerson?"
"I am."
The tower had never named a culprit. It had simply killed every suspect, which meant Tony might have been the one. House Gerson, Tony's own family, could not afford to let that conclusion stand.
"So you came to the tower on Sir Tony's account."
"That's right. As the victim's house, our standing is more than sufficient."
"Yes."
"I want the culprit found, so Sir Tony's grudge can be laid to rest."
Bianca asked, "And you, Chris?"
"What about me?"
"How were things between you and His Highness?"
"I liked him. I wanted us to be closer, but the difference in station set a limit."
"Early on in Lion Pavilion, His Highness probably treated you much the way Alex did."
Chris conceded it.
"There was some of that at the start. Later he changed. He even bought me meals. But I'll say this. Even if he had gone on being stingy with me, I still would have liked him."
"Why?"
"He was my one and only precious customer."
"A mark who paid you in silver?"
"I never once thought of him as a mark. Someone else might see it that way."
Yan said, "Back to the matter at hand. What happened after you found the bodies?"
Chris explained in as much detail as he could. He left out the part where, while Kal was searching Mark's room, he had gone to Sophie for permission to watch and been treated like a fool. The knights grew angry when he reached the removal of Mark's eyes—they seemed to be furious that the body had been mutilated without leave—and they swallowed hard when the last thing the prince had seen was drawn out of his pupils. When the account came to the proposal that memory-extraction magic be used after the search for the culprit failed, they clicked their tongues.
The story climbed toward its peak. At the part where one of the tower's greatest mages rebuked David for making a nuisance of himself over the mere death of a prince, and advised that every suspect be killed, the knights were struck dumb.
John said, "Kill them all because it's a bother? What kind of law is that?"
Michael said, "The tower's contempt for the crown is nothing new, but this goes too far."
Bianca was so indignant that tears shone in her eyes. Watching them, Chris thought, She cries at the slightest thing. A tenderhearted knight.
Bianca said, "What was the name of the mage who told them to kill?"
"I heard the mages call him Perez while they spoke."
"Hah."
Yan sighed, and Michael asked, "Commander, is he a formidable mage?"
"An elder of Mickclonia Magic Tower. One of the three strongest there."
"Ah."
Michael sighed just as his superior had. An elder of the tower would be difficult for the kingdom to protest. John looked at Chris.
"So what happened then?"
"Opinions split. Thomas was against it. William was for it. That left the decision with Randal. It must have been a hard one, because he stepped outside for a while and came back. Then he cast his vote with those in favor and burned them to death himself with fire magic."
"Wait."
"Yes."
"There were four suspects. Why wasn't Alex killed?"
"He was lucky. He stood some distance from the other three, outside the reach of the flames. Harvey stepped forward at once to finish him instead. Black smoke was just about to swallow Alex when a hand of air snatched him clear."
Yan frowned and made a displeased sound.
"Hmph."
Bianca said, "Who do you suppose took him?"
Yan did not answer. John turned to Chris.
"Do you know who saved Alex?"
Chris shook his head.
"I don't."
Yan said, "Randal would know."
Chris asked, "What makes you say that?"
"Before he decided, Randal left the building. Why? Because that arrogant, cruel man found the choice difficult? No. He explained the situation to someone and received instructions. He was ordered to spare Alex. That's why he deliberately kept him out of the fire."
"Ah."
The sound escaped Chris before he could stop it. Thinking back, Yan's reading seemed right. Bianca said, "Then we meet Randal and ask who was shielding Alex."
Yan shook his head.
"He likely won't answer."
"Pay him, and he'll talk."
"This is someone important enough that Randal had to seek his permission. Randal will not open his mouth without that man's leave."
A bitter look crossed Yan's face, as if something foul had risen in his throat. Then he fixed Chris with a glare.
"Why did you drag those at Spirit Awakening in as suspects?"
"Me?"
"Yes, you. When no one was looking at them, you said Alex had been searching for His Highness and put him among the suspects."
Chris could not deny it.
"I hated Alex. I wanted him to be the culprit."
"I see. Is there more?"
"I've said roughly everything I can."
"Nothing hidden?"
Chris scratched his forehead with a vacant look.
"Nothing."
"Good. Thank you for speaking plainly. Go into that room and rest."
"I'll return to the smithy."
"The sun is down. The road is dark, and the snow has made it slick. You don't even know the way. Sleep here tonight, and go in the morning."
On the way in he had been too rattled to remember the path between the smithy and the VIP Guest Pavilion. At that unyielding tone, Chris gave in.
"Yes. Thank you for the consideration."