CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Politicians and Crusaders
Bruises and throbbing pain woke me up in the morning. I'd managed to limp back to my room and catch a few hours of sleep before classes, but the pain jolted me awake. My arm muscles ached from where I'd punched at Jans and blocked his claws. My shoulders burned from where his claws had grabbed me. My back hurt from being slammed into walls and windows. My neck and legs hurt too, likely from the strain of combat. I winced as I crawled out of bed.
That was when the full realization of the previous night hit me like an icy mountain wind. Jans was a murderer. And Father Kraus had been his first victim. But why? Father Kraus was a kind-hearted person, one of the few sages who didn't prejudge me by my mother's reputation. I wiped away a little trickle of tears that had come without warning. I hoped that Father Kraus had died quickly, and hadn't suffered. Getting your neck snapped killed instantly, right? I shuddered and shoved the thought away. I really didn't want to think about it.
I felt my face as I checked the mirror. Would I be able to go out in public after that fight last night? Major claw marks will show any Angels around that I'm their Witch. And I'd have to concoct a story about being mauled by a wild animal when the students started asking questions. Danelle wouldn't need to flex her creative energies to come up with a new taunt for me. Thankfully, my face only had a couple of minor cuts, which were already healing. The exhaustion showed in my red-rimmed eyes, though. God Almighty, I hope Galen doesn't see me like this.
I spent the next half hour combing out the snags in my hair. I peeled off the bits of linen that remained from my ruined clothes—the second outfit I'd lost so far—and used a damp cloth to daub my wounds. They didn't seem so serious now that I looked at them. When I had finished, I stepped out into the hallway, keeping my coat buttoned all the way against the frigid draft. My cuts burned, and my bruises ached. After I checked on Mira and Will, I decided I would skip class to catch up on my sleep.
I put on a smile as I searched for my friends inside the mead hall.
Instead, I found Danelle.
"You're not looking well, Kaybree," she said, inspecting the side of my face. My smile hadn't lasted long. "Are the Kant Vakt winters too harsh for you?"
"No, this is from last night," I said, pushing past her. "From the unloading assignment you didn't show up for."
She flipped her hair. "I was there. The night watchman saw me."
I was too tired to argue, so I scanned the room. Where were Mira and Will? They hadn't been hurt, so they should have been here at breakfast. Panic flashed through me. I pushed through the crowd of students, heading back the way I'd come. What if I was too late? I have to find Galen, I thought. He needs to know about—
"Your attention, please."
The chatting around me stopped. Out of the doorway strode Father Traum, accompanied by two of his knights. He scowled at the students, and we shrank back. "As most of you have heard, there was an attack on the sagekeep last night. Father Kraus has been murdered, and the Vormund tower broken into." He swept his eyes over us. A few of the students paled. One girl started crying. "As of today, the Knights of Valir are taking command of this sagekeep. We will be conducting an investigation into the matter. All witnesses are required to testify. Those of you who were here last night, please come forward."
No one moved. I tried to slip behind a table, but he locked gazes with me and walked over. "Young Lady Staalvoss," he said, seizing my arm with an iron grip. "Someone told me you were snooping around the sagekeep last night."
"It was for the festival," I said, conscious of all the students' eyes on me. "Father Kraus wanted me—wanted us—to help unload things. Have you talked to the wagon crew?"
"I'm interested in what you saw last night," he said, leading me away. For a bald, wiry man, his grip was incredibly strong. "Please, come with me and we'll talk."
I caught Danelle's eyes. "But Danelle was there too," I said. He paused. "It's true. She and I were both assigned to help with the unloading."
She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Father, but I completely forgot about it. Father Kraus told me to show up, but I never made it." She pointed to her friends. "We were all over at my parent's manor." I silently fumed; the one time that laziness avoided trouble, Danelle had hit the jackpot.
He dragged me through the corridors, past the main hall, and into a wing I'd never seen before. The honor guard clanked beside us. My arm started to hurt from Traum's unyielding grip. We passed huge golden statues of Angels and philosophers, most of whom I didn't recognize. Jans would know who they were. He's probably known them all in person. How old were the Angels? A hundred years? A thousand? No wonder he knew his history. Traum yanked me by my arm down a dimly lit hallway to descend a stone staircase. I squinted into the darkness, broken only by an occasional torch mounted on the wall.
At the bottom of the stairs, Traum shoved me into a room and finally let go of my arm.
"Here we are, young Lady Staalvoss," he said, shutting the door. He slammed a metal bar over its latch. "Just the two of us."
I glanced around at my surroundings. The room looked like a cross between the armory in Vormund tower and Jans's history classroom. Huge oaken bookshelves covered the walls, stuffed with black tomes, but weapons hung from hooks on the shelves as well. Weapons of every kind could be seen: swords, axes, scythes that farmers used to harvest grain, and some I'd never seen before, such as spiked maces. "What is this place, Father?"
"Look down."
I did. A bright red circle was painted on the floor, encircling the area where I stood. It had an odd design, like the visionary eyes on the Vormund insignia. "A prayer room?" I asked. "For . . . people who like battle axes?"
He pulled out a vial. "Something of that nature." He opened the vial and sprinkled a few drops of liquid on the ground. "There. Now, if you wouldn't mind, can you please explain to me what happened last night?"
I took a deep breath. I'd managed to avoid Traum so far since he'd arrived, and I'd never planned what I would say if he found me. I smoothed my clothes and looked back into his eyes, wondering how much of the truth I could hold back. "Well, I was helping unload things from the wagons. Then I heard something upstairs. I went to ask the wagon crew about it, but they were gone, so I left." My stomach grumbled, reminding me that I still hadn't eaten breakfast.
He frowned, and his bald head gleamed in the torchlight. Did he believe me? "Do you want to know what this circle is for?" he asked.
"Not really."
"To perform exorcisms," he said, circling around me. "To prevent demonic entities from using their powers when they've possessed someone. Some people, Kaybree, have their bodies taken over by demons." He leaned closer. I could smell the garlic on his breath, making me gag. "They're called Witches." He glanced down at the circle under my feet. "Are you a Witch, Kaybree?"
I tried to smile. "No, Father," I said, Mikael's words coming back to me. "No evil demonic powers here. Now, my mother . . . have you tried talking to her about this? She's more the Witch type. You know, a reclusive widow that everyone's afraid of, who does amazing things no one can understand?"
Traum's eyes narrowed. "Have you ever felt anything around your mother?" he asked. I tried not to let the relief show on my face. The more I turned this conversation away from me, the better. "Anything . . . odd? Like what you felt last night?"
"Um, maybe?"
"What did you see last night?"
I swallowed, though my mouth was dry. "Some bugs," I said. "Spiders, worms, rats. It felt really icky, so I left. I didn't see anything else." He stared at me, unblinking. I wondered if he knew about the Angels. Was he working with them? Had he sent Jans to kill Father Kraus?
No, he wasn't going to kill him. Father Kraus just got in his way. He was looking for something in the tower. Just like we thought.
Traum drew something out of his pocket. "And what of this?" I reached out to take the object, but he took it back. "Don't touch it. The last time that happened, you
incinerated a classroom."
I winced. This must have been the relic Danelle gave me. "I'm really sorry about that," I said. "I'd never used relics before, so I just wasn't careful enough. It kind of got out of control."
"Yes, of course it did," he said, his tone biting. "Your mother isn't the only one who has caused problems, Kaybree. Unexplained occurrences follow you too." He arched an eyebrow. "Like that sighting from last night."
"Sighting?"
"Yes, a sighting in Vormund tower. A girl made of light or some such nonsense." He pulled me in close to him. "Your mother is playing some dangerous games in that tower of hers. And I'm going to find out what they are."
The girl of light. He'd already put too many pieces together. All he'd need to do was associate me with one more of these "random" occurrences and he'd know that I was a Witch. I had to do something unexpected. I had to make him think he could trust me. So I took a deep breath and said the most ridiculous thing I could think of. "Great," I said with a smile. "I'll help you."
Traum pulled back and scratched his head. He sneered at me. "And why would you want to help us?" He scowled at me, his eyes weighing my words on the scales of truth. "If your mother is a heretic, that would implicate you as well."
I bit my lip, searching for a response. When one came, it was surprisingly sincere. "I don't think she's a heretic, Father. She's secretive, and kind of cold at times, but she isn't evil. I think . . . I think someone is trying to use her to hide their own sins."
He pursed his lips. "And who might that be?"
The Angels. It was a perfect plan. They could blame her for the recent attacks without revealing themselves. If they convinced the sages she was responsible, they could get them to raid Vormund tower—and since Jans was one of the sages, he could walk right in there to find whatever he was looking for. "I'm not sure," I said. "But my mother is an easy target. She keeps secrets, she's powerful, and the sages don't like her. If I wanted to blame someone else for problems that I caused, I couldn't think of anyone better."
Traum's forehead creased in thought. A bead of sweat trickled down my back as I stared back, taking shallow breaths. He pursed his lips and nodded. "An interesting theory, young Lady Staalvoss," he said. "In that case, I will require periodic updates on the situation. Tell me everything you learn. If what you say is true, then perhaps I can show your mother some . . . leniency if she is not the culprit."
Traum lifted the bar over the door and his scowl returned. "But remember, you can hide nothing from me. The Almighty reveals the truth to His faithful in the end." He waved me out. "I'll be watching."
I couldn't believe it. He was letting me go. Before he changed his mind, I pushed open the door and left, stumbling up the stairs toward the brighter light at the top. I met Will and Mira, with a pair of knights standing with them. Their faces were pale, and they swayed as they stood. "Will? Mira? Where have you been?"
Will glanced at the knights. "Long story," he said. "I don't know about you, but I haven't had breakfast yet. No explaining until I have something in my stomach."
My own stomach grumbled at the thought of breakfast, so I followed them to the mead hall. The walkways were empty, and the halls quiet. The other students had gone to their morning classes. We picked up some of the leftovers and settled down at our usual table in the back. The shuffling of cooks and murmured conversations in the halls were the only sounds around us, buzzing in the background.
I took a bite of cold eggs. "I was worried about you," I said, gulping down a glass of juice filled with pulp. "What happened?"
"The Inquisition finally caught up to us," Mira said, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "Someone must have told Father Traum we snuck into the tower."
"But you're all right?" I asked.
"Great," Will said, chewing on a thick slab of venison. "Aside from being dragged down to the dungeon and having a bunch of old guys brandish pyramids at us."
"I'm sorry," I said. I wished they'd chosen a different time to be adventurous. "At least it wasn't anything worse. I thought that . . ." I looked around. No one in sight or earshot. "That maybe Jans had gotten you." Will fidgeted with his fork, and Mira studied the floor. I knew this look. It was the same way my friends usually reacted to finding out I was Lady Andreya's daughter. They'd act embarrassed and shy, and then say they had to get to class and leave. And then never speak to me again.
This time it was ten times worse. My mother's reputation wasn't driving them away; it was me. They'd seen me turn into a monster of lightning. They'd been attacked by a creature that came for me. And now they knew that one of our teachers was trying to kill me.
"Look, I understand. We don't have to talk about this if you don't want to." I stuffed a biscuit into my coat pocket and stood up with my tray. "I'll see you guys at the Bard Song, all right?"
I didn't turn back. I couldn't get them involved in my problems. It wasn't as if they hated me; we could remain friends, but not close enough to endanger them. I blinked to make sure I didn't cry. There was nothing to cry about. I was saving my friends the trouble of being hunted by direwolves and Angels. Besides, Galen and my mother would be furious if they learned I'd leaked my identity to my classmates.
I checked the Vormund tower upstairs for any sign of Galen or my mother. The guards at the doors gave me similar answers as the ones before, although they seemed more nervous about Lady Staalvoss's disappearance. They were conducting their own investigation into the break-in, so they didn't allow me inside. I decided to return to my room to rest and regain my strength. But my heart kept pounding. I thought about the conversation with Father Traum, but that wasn't what worried me.
It was Jans. I hadn't seen him since last night. Did he know who I was? The next time he saw me, would he transform and attack? Or would he simply accuse me of heresy? I wondered if his classroom had one of those red circles painted onto the ground. If he knew who I was, then maybe he was planning his next move. Maybe he was planning to—
"Kaybree?" said a voice up ahead. A figure strode through the empty corridor, causing the torches that lined the walls to flicker. I paled as Jans's form came into focus. I braced myself and searched for a quick exit. The wide front gate of the sagekeep was kept open, with a pair of the Knights of Valir standing guard at all times. Jans wouldn't transform, not with them around. Or would he?
I smiled at him. "Hi, Jans."
He smiled back and adjusted his spectacles as he came up to me. "I'm glad to see you're all right. I heard about what happened."
I froze, searching his gaze. Why the friendly demeanor? Had he not seen me last night? Or did he not remember? I tried to play along. "You heard?"
He sighed and put a hand on my shoulder. I thought of how he had done a similar action last night, only with claws that dug into my flesh. "You have to understand that the Knights of Valir are serious about their duty. They can be rough-handed at times, but it's mainly to maintain appearances. To scare you."
"Oh. That." He was talking about Traum. "It wasn't bad. I'm a little worried about the attack, though. You know, on Vormund tower."
Jans shook his head. "Yes, I heard about that as well. We've lost a valiant comrade in Father Kraus. What manner of madness has your mother been keeping up there?"
"People are saying it was the Angels." And if they weren't, then I would start spreading rumors.
Jans motioned to me. "Come inside. We shouldn't be talking out here." He waved me over, and I realized that his classroom door was only a few paces down the hall. I'd forgotten that his classroom was on my way back to my room. This conversation only confused me more, but it seemed that Jans actually didn't know who—or what—I was. I slid my hand into my pocket and brushed the relic ring with my fingers. I'd be ready, just in case.
I followed him into the classroom, which was brightly lit with candles. The curtains were drawn back, giving a clear view out the window of the patrolling Knights and the Midwinter merchants selling their wares. Jans stood before the
painting of the War of the Angels on his wall, frowning. "The Angels are difficult for humans to understand, Kaybree," he said. "Everything they do is for the benefit of mankind. Why would an Angel kill Father Kraus?"
I paused, unsure of how to respond. If Jans really had killed Father Kraus, then he was being incredibly cold-hearted about it. If he hadn't, then whom had I seen last night? "It doesn't make sense, Jans. Why would that Angel burn through half the city a few weeks ago?" I pointed out the window, where the knights were shoving aside peasants with the flensu to make way for a gilded carriage. "And why don't they cure the flensu? Or give us enough food at harvest, or stop the snows from freezing people?"
"There is wisdom in all the Angels' purposes," he said. "Sometimes all we can do is wait and discover what they intended."
"I wish Galen were here," I said, half to myself. He would know what to do.
Jans frowned. "He is not here?"
"He and my mother have been gone for weeks. I'm getting worried about them."
Jans took a dry cloth and wiped the fog from the windows. "This is one of the reasons for your mother's unfortunate reputation," he said. "And why young Lord Valkegaard's family disapproves of his association with her."
I let my mind race to the first possible conclusion. Then I wished I hadn't. "Wait, you're not saying they're . . . ?" I'd never thought my mother would be courted by someone practically the same age as me.
Jans chuckled. "No, nothing like that. Not that I'd put it past him. But it's their general unpredictability that bothers people. In Kantmarck, it's the tradition to choose the king from among the nobility. He's the first among equals, and the others help him run the state. In this kind of system, trust is paramount. They're all part of some network, some political tribe. You join a faction at court, and then give and take resources. Weapons, soldiers. Secrets." He frowned. "You don't keep the contents of an entire tower hidden from the world. They don't like it if you refuse to play their games."
"But why are they still here?" I asked. "How did they get to stay in the sagekeep if nobody trusts them?"
"They're the only ones who can defend against these so-called Angel attacks," he said. "When you have fear on your side, you're indispensable."
"In other words, nobody can complain when you're the ones saving the world."
Jans snorted. "Saving the world? From whom?" He gazed out at the snow-covered streets. "And for whom?" He laughed and ran a hand through his hair. "Galen Valkegaard is one of a kind. He could charm the brass off of a doorknob. I suppose that's the real reason your mother has been free of scrutiny." He turned back to face me. "There are two types of people who wield power, Kaybree. Politicians and crusaders. The latter may be bold and aggressive, but the former are far more dangerous."
As much as I hated to admit, he had a point: there was too much that Galen and my mother weren't telling me. And until they did—until they came back and gave me some answers—I couldn't be sure of anything.
Even what I'd seen with my own eyes.