The gathered angels all exchanged glances before answering.
“It was not our intent to make a fuss,” Harmony said delicately.
“You don’t want the attention,” Fatma deduced. “Let it be known that Lord Worthington was breaking into their vaults, and soon every thief in Cairo would be trying to do the same—just to see if they could.”
“You see, then, our predicament,” Leader said. “When the ring first went missing, we suspected Lord Worthington, thinking perhaps he had finally puzzled out the meaning of the seal on his insignia. Then he and his Brotherhood all met an untimely end. It left us puzzled. So we began to look into matters.” He placed a large steel thumb upon the folder on the table—nudging it toward them. Fatma opened it, shuffling through the contents. Financial accounts by the looks of it. She passed several to Hadia.
“Lord Worthington’s company’s holdings,” Leader informed. “Over the past year there have been some interesting investments and acquisitions.”
“Armament holdings,” Hadia read. “Weapons industries. Airship bombers. Maxim gun and gas canister manufacturers.”
“Strange assets for a man touting peace,” Discord quipped.
It was more than that, Fatma assessed, flipping through the pages. The shares and sums here were astronomical. As if Alistair Worthington was trying to convert over his entire company to profit from war. No, not him, she realized.
“You don’t think Alistair Worthington was making these decisions, do you?” she asked.
“An irksome mortal, certainly,” Leader complained. “But this seems unlike him. Someone else in Lord Worthington’s house was making these changes.”
“Someone who held him and his Brotherhood in clear disdain,” Discord said.
“Someone who had access to Siwa and the list,” Harmony added.
Fatma parsed those words carefully. “Who are you talking about?”
The angels all shared another of those infuriating glances, before Leader shook his masked head. “We are not investigators. That matter is left for you. Whoever this imposter is, they now hold the Seal of Sulayman—an instrument of immense power.”
“Immeasurable power!” Harmony wailed. “Too much for a mortal to wield so willfully. So often. Even Sulayman knew better. It will take its toll on them, body and spirit!”
“It is why we have consented to bring you here,” Discord spoke. “Why we have shared what you should not be privy to.”
“You must retrieve the ring, agent,” Leader said, his tone insistent. “You must take it from this imposter before more damage is done and return it to us. So we may fulfill our contract.”
Fatma didn’t respond right away. These angels didn’t know who the imposter was. But they had clear suspicions. Someone in the Worthington household. She and Hadia had been on the right track all along. There was vindication at least in that.
“We’ll find the ring,” she said finally. “But only on the condition that you answer two more questions and grant two demands.”
Leader didn’t appear to like this bargain, but he dipped his head in agreement. “Speak your words. We will answer or meet them, within reason.”
Fatma spoke carefully. “What does the imposter want with the Clock of Worlds?”
Another awkward shifting of wings.
“That machine should have been destroyed,” Leader said flatly.
Fatma had said as much to the Ministry, to no avail. “Yes, but that wasn’t my question.”
“No one knows,” Maker put in. “My predecessor had nefarious designs for its intent. I fear little else from this imposter. Leader is correct, the machine should be … unmade.” The last word sounded almost foreign to her.
“Second,” Fatma began. “What do you know of the Nine Lords?”
“Djinn superstition,” Leader dismissed idly. “Their kind are prone to such delusions.”
“But the imposter would have the power to control them, with the ring?”
“That is a third question,” Leader replied. “Our bargain only allowed for two.”
Fatma moved on to her demands. “My first demand: stop abducting the bookseller. Either work better magic or undo it altogether. You don’t understand humans as well as you think. You can’t hold knowledge from us. We’ll find out somehow, someway. It’s who we are. Let the bookseller be.”
There was a bout of silence, before a rumbling voice said, “Done.”
Fatma looked to Defender in surprise. The others all seemed to take his word as final, however, stating their assent.
“Second request. Release Hadia and me from this confoundment magic of yours. We’ll work faster without it about our necks.”
“Oh, that we cannot do,” Leader said, shaking his head.
“Why not?” Hadia asked. “It’s your doing.”
“Not just ours,” Maker explained. She glanced to Leader, who gestured to continue. “The means to creating the concealment of the Seal of Sulayman involved angelic powers, and that of others, beyond this realm, as silent partners. To willfully release you from the confoundment would place us in violation of our contract with them.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “One does not break obligations to them. Ever.”
Fatma had no idea who these “others” were. But the ominous finality in the angel’s tone made her uncertain how to argue the point.
“There is a way that will not cause imbalance,” Harmony offered. “The sleeping djinn.”
“The sleeping djinn,” Leader repeated wistfully. “That would not violate the contract.”
“It might disrupt the spirit of our agreement,” Discord warned.
“Our partners are not so slavish as to start a blood feud across the realms over wording,” Harmony countered. “At least, I hope not.” She turned to Fatma. “Our contract with the djinn at once bound each of their kind to its tenets, forcing their consent by mere existence. The only exceptions were any djinn who may have at the time been unable to grant consent on account of their incorporeal inert state. As they exist outside of the contract at its making, they are unbound and as such can, at their choosing, renegotiate how the contract is applied and to whom it is applied—as long as it meets our approval.”
“So…” Hadia began, slowly turning things over in her head. Angels could be taxing with their legalese. “We can be released from this spell without causing any … inter-realm conflicts. But who’s this sleeping djinn?”
At the question, the angels all turned to Fatma. She
