“Very busy with what?”
“Again, I don’t know him, and we hardly know anything about this place.”
“Well, if we never see him, how do we find the sword?”
Sul blinked. “Was that your plan? Just to ask him about it?”
“I suppose so.”
“Then why this whole demented story about you being a naturalist?” Sul demanded.
“I don’t know. ‘Hello, I’m crown prince Attrebus, I’ve just come from Oblivion, where I was eviscerated by something and then healed by a god so I can try to find the sword that will help me defeat the flying city of Umbriel and its army of undead’ just seemed like an implausible way to go.”
“Right,” Sul grunted. “You had a good instinct. But asking outright where the sword is would seem to run counter to it, wouldn’t you think?”
“I could just ask him if he has any unusual artifacts I can write about. We don’t have a lot of time, Sul.”
“He let us in,” Sul said. “He seems to have an interest in sorcerers. Let’s continue to follow your first instinct and see what happens. At least for another day.”
Attrebus studied Sul for a moment, trying to see if he was making fun of him. Even now it was hard to tell.
“Okay, then,” he said.
“Get some sleep,” Sul replied.
Attrebus turned in, but every time he closed his eyes, he felt his belly open and the wet, impossible gush of his innards into the basket of his arms. Sleep felt too near death, and after half an hour of lying there, watching the faint crack and glow of the flames, he rose, dressed in breeches and shirt, and quietly padded into the hall. He dithered for a moment, feeling vulnerable in the near-black. He’d thought he might explore a bit, but without a torch or lantern, he wouldn’t be able to see much. He took a few steps along the wall and stopped, not entirely sure why.
Then he felt breath touch his face.
SIX
“Anything I can help you with, inspector?”
Colin looked up from the tome he was studying to find a bent and withered fellow in a burnt umber robe furnished with what was possibly a hundred pockets. His nose took up most of his face, but his keen blue eyes were what drew your attention.
“Professor Aronil,” he said, standing.
“No need for that, old fellow,” the mage said. “Are you finding what you’re looking for?”
“I don’t really know what I’m looking for,” he said.
“Well, that can either be good or bad, can’t it?” Aronil said. “But I don’t remember you as a browser, Colin. You always wanted to get to the point, to the answer. I don’t expect you’ve changed that much.”
“No, I don’t expect I have.”
Aronil peered down at the pages. “Pneumatology? That’s rather your strong suit.”
“Well, I thought so,” Colin replied.
“Is this about the flying city or what-have-you? Because the College of Whispers has the most up-to-date information on those things. I’ve just seen their most recent report-fascinating, really. The things aren’t bonewalkers-they’re more like flesh atronachs, although they don’t respond the same to arcane stimuli.”
“No, it’s not about that,” Colin said. “I’m assigned internally.”
“I understand,” the mage said. “I shan’t pry more.”
He began to walk away.
“Actually, I would welcome your help,” Colin said. “It could take me weeks at this rate.”
“Well, what’s the problem, then?”
“The problem is that something nearly killed me the other day, and I don’t know what it was.”
“Well, the ‘nearly’ part is encouraging anyway,” Aronil said.
“I don’t like my chances if I meet another one,” Colin said. “I don’t know if that’s even likely, but I always prefer to be prepared.”
“Tell me about it,” Aronil said, pulling over a seat.
“I was searching an apartment,” Colin began. “At first I thought it was a ghost-”
“Presenting, or had you prepared yourself?”
“I went there looking for spiritual remnants,” he admitted.
“So it was probably invisible to the untrained eye.”
“Oh, I’m sure of that,” Colin replied. “The apartment has a resident. I checked into him a little and he’s apparently never claimed his place was haunted or whatever.”
“And he isn’t a mage?”
“No.”
“Fine. Go on.”
Colin related the rest of the encounter, and the old Altmer just sat there for a moment, nodding absently.
“And afterward-the spirit you were looking for?”
“She was there. Not much left of her, though.”
Aronil stood and took a couple of paces. “You’re in dangerous territory here, Colin. I wonder if you know exactly what you’re doing.”
“Just my job,” he replied.
“I can check that, you know,” Aronil said. “I am privy, if I wish to be, to any investigation our organization is running. And one of my charges is to make certain that the library of the Penitus Oculatus isn’t being abused in any fashion.”
“I’m aware of that, sir,” Colin said, as ice formed in his belly. “I don’t believe I’m abusing anything.”
“Last I checked, you were assigned to find any possible Thalmor connection with our current problem. This seems far afield from that, to me. How did you meet this thing? What did you hope to learn?”
He sighed. He couldn’t pretend Aronil didn’t have the clearance.
“You’re right,” he said. “I think the Thalmor angle is a dead end. I’m looking into something else.”
“We’re alone here,” Aronil said. “Tell me.”
“I believed there was a connection to Black Marsh,” he said. “The spirit I was looking for was of a woman who witnessed what may have been the calling of Umbriel into our world.”
Aronil folded his arms.
“I’ve heard the speculation that it must have been summoned here, or at least invited. It arrived in Black Marsh, so I suppose that makes sense, on the surface of it. Do you have proof?”
“Only a strong suggestion,” Colin said.
“Strengthened, perhaps, by the fact that the witness to this event was murdered, presumably for what she saw?”
“Yes.”
“Have you gone to Marall with this?”
“No, I haven’t,” he replied.
“Why?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest,” Colin said. “Part of it is that I’m not sure who I can trust anymore.”
“And yet you trust me?” Aronil said. “How touching.” His kindly tone had been replaced by a dark rasp.
“Well, I hadn’t thought about whether I trust you,” Colin replied. “I didn’t expect to have to.”
Aronil snorted. “Well, it’s a good thing you can, you idiot.” He strode across the room and up a ladder, and without even looking, it seemed, selected a book and pulled it down. It was bound in some sort of dark red leather and blackened iron bands, but it was quite small, not much bigger than his palm.
“The thing you’re talking about is a very specific variety of daedra. They were often summoned by the
