‘What are these?’ Fulcrom asked.
‘Statements from last night,’ Warkur ventured, although he seemed disturbed. ‘You’re in charge of weird shit. Well, here’s a big pile of weird shit.’
‘I’m not sure I follow.’
‘We got a stack of witness statements last night, and they’re from people who…’ Warkur leaned in as if ashamed to speak the words ‘.. who claim that the dead visited their houses. If it was one or two people, I’d have slapped them in a cell and let the silly fuckers sober up. But we got over forty declarations that the dead — or people believed to be deceased — were up and about, hassling the citizens of this damn city.’
Fulcrom breathed out slowly. ‘Right you are, sir, I’ll look into it.’
‘Don’t let this get out anywhere, and don’t put too much effort into things. We don’t want to be seen to be wasting our resources on shit that might not even be real.’
‘Understood, sir,’ Fulcrom reassured him.
Warkur retreated from the room. At the door he paused. ‘I know you’re not their babysitters, but are those damn Knights of yours prepared for today?’
‘I believe so, sir.’
‘Good. I never trust it when matters the Inquisition should be overseeing fall under the control of the city guard just because the Emperor is present. They’re an arrogant and unsubtle bunch. We should be there — feels like a threat whenever they suggest we don’t get involved.’
As Warkur left, Fulcrom lowered his forehead to the desk.
Things were no longer looking so good.
His problems would not go away. He had loved Adena more than life itself, and it took him weeks to even speak to another person after her death. Her life gone, Adena had been framed for a crime she didn’t commit. It was a savage end for such a beautiful, delicate human.
People began to talk about him behind his back — sentiments of sympathy at first, and then something more serious, questioning his fitness for the job of investigator. Fulcrom threw himself into his work assiduously, and discovered it was the only thing that would keep him from thinking about her. Eventually the pain diminished, but he was left with a residue in his mind that he couldn’t scrub away, no matter how hard he tried to force the matter from his thoughts. Then years later, there was Lan with her eccentricities and her charms and her differences from anyone he’d met in a long time. Something close to hope had reared itself in his mind.
And then last night, of all nights to visit, she came back…
Fulcrom glanced through some of the reports from the previous night.
‘My Jed was there — it’s been nearly twenty years, but he was there, still a boy, at the foot of my bed.’
‘I was in the bath and this presence crept behind me and tried to kiss me!’
‘Two of them — the ones that robbed me blind last year, standing there all glowing white and with the knives they carried that same night. They taunted me and my wife and we didn’t sleep at all afterwards.’
The stories were very similar to his own — visitations and phantoms haunting the living of Villjamur. What the hell had that priest been doing?
The path inside the iren was lined with numerous ornate cressets that each held a fat-based flame. Across a white marble floor, with mica-covered walls and ceilings, the place was assiduously clean and gleaming, and across such surfaces the echo of their footsteps ricocheted down the corridor.
Lan felt nervous as the weight of expectation dawned on her.
Not only were the Knights celebrated by the people of the city, but they would be in the public eye once again. If something should go wrong, the people would not look to the city guard for assistance, they would look to the Knights — the manufactured symbols of hope.
The corridor didn’t turn at right angles, it curved gently, implying the vast size of the structure. Soon they found themselves at the top of an iron spiral staircase and, together, they descended, passing portraits of the great icons of the military dressed in various regalia. At the bottom of the stairs the city guard boxed around Urtica, obscuring him with their crimson and grey colours, guiding him forwards, their dull steel shields held aloft as if they were heading into a fracas.
Then a lower level, wider, lighter, with skylights, wooden rails and gold cressets. Everything here seemed to glitter, as if they were in some heady dream.
People, who Lan guessed had something to do with the iren, were loitering. Wealthy types, judging from the looks of them, in regal tunics and dresses. All of them desperate to meet the new celebrities. ‘This is bizarre,’ Lan whispered to Tane.
‘I love it,’ Tane replied, shaking hands with some of the traders. ‘It’s why I love the taverns so much. I can’t quite get enough of the adoration.’ Then, to those gathered to one side, ‘Nice to meet you. Sorry, must be on my way.’
‘Tane,’ Vuldon snapped, ‘watch them closely. See anything remotely strange act on it.’
‘I am, big guy, I am. I can hear dozens of conversations. I can do this stuff without even thinking about it, and meanwhile I’m still on the lookout.’
‘You good, Lan?’ Vuldon demanded.
‘Yeah.’ Lan was now peering into the deepening crowd as their noise swelled to fever pitch.
A shaven-headed man in his thirties, wearing a dark-brown hood, came to her side — and he was pleading with Lan for a kiss; an admirer. She ignored him at first, didn’t want to make a scene here, but he laughed perversely.
‘You look jus’ fine in that outfit,’ he drawled, then groped for her breasts.
Lan grabbed his outstretched arm, punched his stomach, and he buckled over. Finding reserves of strength that surprised even herself, she grabbed him by the hair, yanking him back, and clutched his throat. She snarled into his alcohol-reeking face: ‘You leave me alone, right?’
The man squirmed a nod, and she pushed him away. Clawing his throat, he vanished into the masses.
‘Well handled,’ Vuldon said, without a hint of sarcasm. ‘Bet being a woman in your position surprises you somewhat.’
‘Fuck you.’
On through the horde, shadowing the city guard, who opened out behind a platform overlooking the lower floors in this vast atrium. Above there were two huge skylights, latticed with wood, and made from the most remarkably clear glass Lan had ever seen. The building felt as airy as an outside iren. A faint cough of a pipe as the new fire-grain heating system imported from Villiren continued to pump warmth around the place. This is simply stunning…
Upon seeing the Emperor above them, the audience fell into a hush.
He cleared his throat and paused. ‘This is a momentous day. One of progress…’
While he recited a prepared script from memory, the Knights moved into position behind the city guard and across to the opposite side, gaining a better perspective on the events. Shops were layered on three floors, nearing a hundred units in all, mainly clothing-sellers and milliners, but also everything from designer carpenters to weapon-smiths, with a few bistros scattered about.
‘… from the latest materials developed with the assistance of cultists, utilizing the great ancient technologies of millennia past..’
Around the sides of this highest level, marksmen crouched with loaded crossbows. One of them glanced her way and nodded, before allowing his gaze to settle on the throng below. As the Emperor continued his oratory, Lan, too, began scanning the crowd for any signs of trouble.
It seemed impossible to know what signs to look for. Everyone had been searched on entry and any weapons confiscated — an act all the more ironic considering that expensive blades would soon be on sale here. Lan noticed personnel sporting the new Shelby Corporation colours, white belts bright against the dark-red uniforms. It seemed they were guarding some of the more impressive-looking shops.
She focused on people’s hands, whether or not they were in pockets, about to draw out something, people nudging those next to them, people gesturing across the atrium.
Through the glass, she saw something up on the roof. Possibly a pterodette or a garuda on patrol?
A noise below caught her attention. Someone had knocked over one of the grand portraits. Laughter frothed
