Chapter 58
Councillor White knocked on Lord Councillor Blind's office door. There were no go-betweens, no Servants monitoring his time, nothing preventing her entry: as a Contegon, she had free rein when inside the Cathedral they once shared with the Lords. Tone didn't doubt Lord Blind would soon push for the Clerics' Bureau to move as well, leaving them with primacy over the greatest building in Aureu.
A young Lord opened the door for her. Maybe twenty, his hair was shaven into an image of the Sol Lexic, and he had the milky pallor of someone who spent their life reading indoors. Without speaking, he stepped aside and motioned for Tone to enter.
“Ah, Contegon Councillor,” Blind said. He stood by the Cathedral's enormous windows. The pre-Cleansing Lord statue he shared his pale blue robes with loomed behind him, looking over Aureu with an inscrutable gaze. “Is it that time already?”
“Lord Councillor,” Tone said, acquiescing. She couldn't get used to kneeling to anyone. “It is.”
“You may leave us, my friend,” he said to the other Lord, who retired quietly.
When the door shut behind her, Blind's face fell from the stoic echo of the Lord's statue into disdain and disgust. “Sit. I want this over with.”
“I wasn't hoping to extend it myself, sire,” Tone said.
“Don't take that tone with me. It is a travesty that you can waste my time like this: we both know a Lord would never be involved in the death of those... Acolytes.” His sneer curled further as he leaned over a plinth holding the Sol Lexic. He idly turned the pages, as though looking for some reason to be rid of her. “Ours is the holiest Station. I am the Lord Councillor. By rights and default, I am the holiest and greatest man in Aureu. Besides the Guardian of course.”
Tone sat on a chair in front of the plinth, looked up at him. The window cast light around Blind's bent shoulders, set it bouncing from his delicate robes. It was a subtle piece of showmanship, but one she didn't appreciate. Not that she would let him know that, antagonise him.
“Come on, out with it, woman. Waste your words.”
Or, she decided with a breath, maybe she would antagonise him. But charging recklessly had never been her style. “We have been charged by the Guardian to investigate every possible avenue in finding who is responsible for Lun's Burst, and I'm afraid that yours is one of the most compelling cases, sire.”
The Lord laughed. “Is that what they're calling it? I don't remember being consulted.”
“It is a reaction, I suppose, from popular culture. That song is widely known.”
He slammed the Sol Lexic shut. “No. It is not. It is an example of our degradation is what it is.”
She held his fiery gaze evenly, not rising to him. “Regardless, you are the most likely suspect because you forced your way to the information about Maya's planned trip.”
“For the right reasons,” Lord Blind said.
“So you claim.”
“Yes. I do. That ought to be enough.”
“Sadly, 'because I said so' is not evidence any Hereticum can accept. We are talking about the murder of three members of arguably the highest Station in Aureu.” She enjoyed his twitch of rage before continuing. “Murder with a device not forged by the hands of a normal Artificer.”
Blind stroked his beard. “And I suppose that Note told you that, did she?”
“No. Former Artificer Councillor Flag told me.” Tone reached into her robes and pulled out a statement from the former Councillor. “He was an expert in explosives, if you recall, and has kept up with recent advances, such as they are.”
“Flag?” Blind asked, calming. “He was some Councillor, a great man. He knew his proper place.”
Which meant he didn't argue with Blind. Flag was a pious man, quiet and simple, who preferred his workshop to Council sessions. He had been part of Blind's voting bloc, giving the man almost complete control. Tone had sought him out specifically because Blind would not argue with his testimony.
“Do you wish to read it?” she asked.
Blind considered it, then shook his head. “No. I trust Flag.”
“Good. As I was saying, we are dealing with a crime for which a Hereticum is the only outcome. This means the perpetrators' former, and current, Station will not protect them.”
“I notice that you are protected, Contegon.”
Tone smiled, enjoying aggravating the obstinate fool. “That is because I convinced Maya to remain in Aureu. My doing so saved her life, as the evidence shows she was the main target for the attack.”
“Ah,” Blind said, gripping the plinth. “I have you to thank for her presence at the meeting, then.”
“You have the will of the Council to thank for that particular judgement, Lord Blind.” That Sol's was also responsible was left implicit, another little needle placed in the man's ego.
“Indeed,” he said. “Fine. You want to know how I found out about Maya's trip?”
Tone nodded.
“This is, of course, in the strictest confidence, Contegon Councillor. I would not share this with your… partner in this investigation.”
“I cannot guarantee that,” Tone replied, “but I will try.”
“It is the Lord Councillor's responsibility to ensure Sol's will and strength are translated from the Sol Lexic,” he lectured, rubbing the Sol Lexic with his fingertips, “into the hearts and minds of the Stationed and the Stationless. Sometimes, we must measure what people think and feel without them knowing we do so: after all, if you ask a man what he thinks of you, you won’t get the truth.”
Tone held her reaction. She had been told when she took up her Councillor position that the Lords placed children into other Stations to ensure no sedition or heresy took place there. She'd thought it paranoid nonsense from someone who resented leaving her post, but now realised she had judged her predecessor too harshly.
Not that he was confirming that outright: he could simply be saying that the Lords use their privilege to access the Bureau's records. The Clerics needed some oversight after all, even their Councillor. She knew for a fact the Lords couldn't have read Pale's notes to find out about this trip... but, again, he could have somehow read another Councillor's private papers...
Tone shook her head, made herself relax. She was too old for panic. But, even as she took deep breaths, she couldn't escape that feeling that something great had occurred under her nose. Again.
“You realise how much that looks like you're crossing your Station's boundaries?”
Blind turned to face her. His eyes were wider as he rested his hands back on the plinth. “I'm checking what people think, not how other Stations work.”
“And whose conscience were you weighing when you found that Maya was leaving?”
“I'd rather not say.”
Tone scoffed. “Are you sure?”
When Blind did not reply, Tone asked, “Is this something you regularly do?”
“Only when I feel that I have cause to. I'm certainly not double-checking Pale's fine work, as he was the one who discovered I'd learned about Maya's trip.”
He seemed calmer now. Tone imagined this was how he'd acted when the Guardian found he'd burrowed his way into their secret. It was said that his relationship with Blind had grown more strained as their leader's health improved, that Blind had expected to be the next Guardian in a year or so. Receiving a Secrecy Order and censure would no doubt have angered him greatly.
How he must regret helping the Guardian with his health now...
“The Guardian mustn't have been pleased with your involvement,” she said.
Birds chirped outside, singing as he glowered. “He wasn't, no. I was given a warning about abusing my position, and slapped with the Secrecy Order which condemns me to waste my time talking to you.”
“It must hurt, your relationship with the Guardian being so perfunctory now?”
“I don't know what you mean,” he replied in a tone that made it clear he'd lied.
“You helped him see Sol's healing
light when Octave failed. You returned him from the brink of death. And yet he is not quite as grateful as you want him to be, is he?”
He tutted, gripped his Sol Lexic. “You overstep your bounds, Contegon.”
“It seems I am not alone in doing so,” she replied. “When did you discover Maya's plans?”
Blind stroked his beard. “Two days before she was to leave. Once I realised why she had been evasive in discussing future plans, I raised the emergency agenda item to take advantage of her weakened position on the great issue. That, I say, is proof I did not kill those children: the moment I knew, I took advantage of my knowledge. Maya is an opponent, and I would not have waited so long to use her absence. The Guardian's word and the timing of the Secrecy Order should absolve me.”
“It is not that simple, sire.”
He sighed then looked out over the city behind him. “Why?”
“We cannot know when you discovered Maya's plans. You might have known from the start, and only made it obvious when it suited your other aims.” Tone stood and joined the Lord Councillor in watching Aureu. “Someone with access to the Disciple technology and explosives that caused Lun's Burst must be working with and for the Disciples. It could, therefore, serve the conspirator's cause to ensure the people of Geos do not learn the Disciples' secrets and use them against the monsters.”
Blind tutted. “Your own thoughts on 'the great cause' colour your perception, Contegon.”
“Perhaps. But you cannot deny it is possible.”
He looked at her sidelong, old, yellow eyes scanning her white robes. “And in this theory – this fantasy – why would one of the most powerful men in Geos side with what he has been trained to hate and fight?”
Tone had expected this question, and had constructed the scenario as easily as she had with Note or Draw. “It is no secret, sire, that the Lords' influence has dwindled since the Acolyte Councillor was found holy by the Hereticum. People have shirked your subtler connection with Sol for their more obvious powers. This reduction could hurt a proud man used to having his word taken above all others, especially when his opportunity for becoming the Guardian was slipping away... and the Disciples could have identified such a man as a weakness, offered him power and secrets in return for primacy.”
“Pure fantasy,” Blind hissed.
“Only if you can disprove it with evidence, sire.”
The Lord Councillor slowly shook his head. “My methods mean that I cannot prove that information of Maya's leaving only came to me just before she planned to leave.”
“Can you at least prove your subordinates did not find this out and pass or sell it on to Disciple sympathisers?” Tone asked.
Blind took a long, slow breath. “No. But rest assured, only I knew of Maya’s holiday.”
That inability to prove his methods concerned the Contegon Councillor greatly.
“I hope you'll forgive my slander,” she said, changing tack. “I am merely performing my role to the best of my abilities, and that means understanding and imagining how every suspect could have orchestrated Lun's Blast. The other Councillors will be treated the same.”
“I don't care how the other Councillors are treated. One of them is a Disciple.”
“That's entirely possible, sire,” Tone admitted.
They stood in silence, watching Aureu. Sol shone brilliantly, making the room almost white. The Cathedral must reflect light into this office, she decided, one of the many tricks and secrets that the pre-Cleansing building hid... including, obviously, the flowering Acolyte that protected Aureu during the Second Invasion. In the growing silence Tone would not break, she wondered if it was watching them.
“Was there anything else, Contegon?” Blind asked.
“Yes. May I see your copy of the Sol Lexic?”
His eyes widened, shock piercing his thick hide. “Why would you ask that?”
Tone shrugged, tried to play off the request. “It could help to ensure that your Sol Lexic is as it should be. After all, a Lord must rewrite his Sol Lexic every year, and yours was done recently.”
Blind's eyes rolled over to his book, then back at Tone. “If you can give me a good reason for doing so then maybe I'll allow it.”
“I’ll think on it, sire. Besides, I'm sure that once you consider my request further, you'll... revise your position,” Tone said.
The Lord Councillor narrowed his eyes at her, but said nothing more.