“Grand Inquisitor Lysandros,” said the stout man.
“That ancient monster himself, over some runaway…” Septima trailed off. “The Office of Truth requested we look into this, as discreetly as possible. We haven’t slept at all. If you’d said what you just said to anyone else besides us, you’d be dragged off to the dungeons by now. They don’t know how to do anything besides torture,” Septima finished with a roll of her eyes, looking somewhat relieved.
“I still don’t understand why they wouldn’t let us enlist the legions in the search, if this runaway is so important…” the stout man grumbled, crossing his arms.
“You know that if they want to issue a legion bulletin, they have to file a formal request to the Board of Legates. The Senatewillfind it suspicious, and the Office of Truth is clearly trying to keep this quiet.”
“A runaway sorcerer is so important that she must be kept secret from the Senate?”
“The Academy has also been given a gag order. Have you ever heard of the Office of Truth making a request to us? This is serious… Of course there is more to it than meets the eye. But if weplay nice and dig a little deeper, we may find something useful to us down the line.”
In that moment, it came to Cain: The Imperial offices and ministries were not as omnipotent as everyone assumed. They needed each other to do their jobs. They had things to hide among themselves. The Ministry of Intelligence didn’t know everything. The Office of Truth, with all its infamous inquisitors, needed help catching Arienne while keeping things secret from the Senate. From this new perspective, Septima and the others seemed less like a force of fate, and more like ordinary people trying to do the jobs they had been assigned to.
The stout man looked at Cain, his face more relaxed. “You’re an unlucky one. Getting caught up in all this.”
Septima picked up a glass of wine from a dusty side table, took a sip, and said to Cain, “Let’s talk about your mission, shall we? Black coat, medium height, medium build, thick hair? Anything else?”
Cain shook his head. “Only that he slipped through crowds like a ghost.”
“Did he catch you following him?”
“I don’t think so. But he really did move in the crowd almost like he was dancing. Like a snake…”
Devadas took his back off the door. Septima and the stout man looked at him. Cain also hadn’t expected him to respond.
“Safani,” said Devadas.
Cain had never heard this giant say a word. His voice was deep, and he had drawn out the name into three slow syllables.
“Safani is dead.” But the stout man’s voice lacked conviction.
“We’ve thought he was dead before,” said Septima in a low voice, “and we got Aquilla killed because of that.”
“Who is Safani?” asked Cain.
“A mercenary often involved in provincial rebellions,” answered the stout man. “Ten years we’ve been dealing with him on and off, but we still don’t know his name. Safani is a code name Devadas gave the man. It means ‘snake’ in Varatan.”
Septima sipped slowly from her glass of wine, thinking for a moment before saying, “Did you see where he went?”
“Gladdis’s house, near the docks.”
Giving them the most believable lie was Cain’s only option, as he couldn’t talk about the empty house yet. Septima spat a tut.
“We can’t go in there. Why is the Senate always protecting her?”
The stout man answered her: “Because Senator Juliana is close to Gladdis—”
“It’s not just Juliana. That badger merchant has at least seven senators in her pocket. To think of all that money she bribes them with!” Septima eyed Cain, as if regretting the slur.
Fienna’s death was now connected to Imperial politics. Cain felt frustration at how the case was slipping out of his control. He cleared his throat, and the three of them looked at him again.
“Why don’t I go? Isn’t that why you’re paying me in the first place?”
Septima gave a satisfied smile. The stout man gave the smile a puzzled look, turned his head to Cain, and said, “All right. But watch out. If Safani was really the one you saw, he’ll have the likes of you for supper if you get caught.”
18ARIENNE
Arienne knew nothing of what an agent of the Ministry of Intelligence might look like, aside from what she had gleaned from adventure books. They wore sleek black clothes, knew strange ways of fighting learned from distant lands, were beautiful to look at, and always had a witty quip on hand in the face of a dangerous situation. Their day-to-day job involved saving the Empire whenever it was in peril. Then they would go on a vacation in a fantastic locale with other beautiful people.
