“Pardon the observation, but it seems odd that Astrophell should send sentinels to our convocation.”
“The journey from the North was long. And heaven only knows why our order ever occupied this gargantuan stronghold out in the middle of nowhere. Granted, it makes a fine sight from the Westernmost Road -the highest tower spiring up from the mountainside to dwarf the peaks behind.”
Shannon rested his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers. “But Amadi, why should Astrophell send sentinels with its delegation?”
“The diplomats needed protection.”
“I see.”
“ Shannon, is this room safe from prying ears?”
He nodded. “Quite safe. Do you bring news from abroad?”
“News from within.”
Shannon leaned forward. “Go on.”
Amadi shifted in her seat and half-whispered: “Murder in Starhaven.”
Shannon ’s heart began to strike. “Who?”
“This is a sensitive issue, one that must be hidden until the convocation is over. The delegates must renew the treaties.”
“I’m aware of that. Now will you tell me who has been killed?”
“Bear with me, Magister. Five hours ago a janitorial gargoyle working beneath the Spindle Bridge discovered what he thought to be a dying woman.”
“What he thought was a dying woman?”
“She was already dead, but her body was still filling itself with a virulent Numinous misspell. The gargoyle, having secondary cognition, assumed she was still alive and took her to the deputy provost of libraries. She, in turn, reported to the provost, who related the information to me.”
Shannon paused. “You said this woman fell from the Spindle?”
“So it seems. What can you tell me of the bridge?”
Shannon wondered how much information he should share. Amadi had leaped to the top of the sentinel ranks, and such a feat would be impossible without the support of several factions that despised Shannon. He decided to share only common knowledge until he knew more.
“You seem troubled,” Amadi said. “Is it odd that this woman was on the Spindle?”
“Surpassingly odd,” he said at last. “According to the historians, the Chthonic people built the bridge not long after they finished Starhaven. But it leads nowhere. Spans nearly a mile of air only to run into a cliff. The Chthonics did cut beautiful designs into the rock. Just north of the bridge’s end is a foliate pattern-ivy leaves, I believe-and south is a hexagonal pattern.”
“Any explanation for the carvings? Or the bridge itself?”
Shannon shrugged. “Folktales about the Chthonics building a road to a paradise called Heaven Tree Valley. Supposedly when the Neosolar Empire began to massacre the Chthonics, their goddess led them to the Heaven Tree and dropped a mountain on the road. Some say the Spindle once led to that road.”
“Any evidence to support such a tale?”
“None. But every so often, the historians probe the mountainside with text, trying to open the way to the Heaven Tree. They’ve found only rock.” He paused. “Do you think the murder is connected to any of this?”
The soft swish of moving cloth told Shannon that Amadi was shifting in her seat again. “Not that I can see,” she said and then sighed.
Shannon paused before he spoke again. “Amadi, I am shocked and grieved by this tragedy. And yet… please don’t think me heartless, but I don’t want to become involved. I must think of my research and my students. Helping you might drag me into political situations. As I said, I am a different man than I was in the North. But if you refrain from mentioning my name, I’ll give whatever advice I can. But I’d still need to know the victim’s name.”
A long pause. She spoke: “Nora Finn, the grammarian.”
“Sweet heaven!” Shannon whispered in shock. Nora had been the Drum Tower ’s dean and his fiercest academic rival.
Instantly his mind spun with the possible implications of the murder. It might be an indirect attack by old enemies. It might also be connected to the restless guardian spells and Nicodemus’s prowler on top of the Stacks. That would make the Drum Tower the focus of the intrigue.
Shannon fingered the asterisks on the spine of his journal. His enemies might hope to exact revenge by harming his students. His thoughts jumped to Nicodemus. The boy’s cacography had proven he was not the Halcyon, but Shannon ’s enemies in Astrophell might have heard his name and so marked him as their target.
Or, far less likely but more frightening, the boy might have some unknown connection to the Erasmine Prophecy. If that were so, then the fate of all human language would be in jeopardy.
“Did you know Magistra Finn?” Amadi asked.
Shannon started. “I’m sorry?”
“Did you know Finn?” Amadi repeated patiently.
Shannon nodded. “Nora and I both took care of the Drum Tower ’s students. As the Drum Tower ’s master, I see to our students’ residential matters. As the dean, Nora governed their academics. But these students don’t often study. I end up counseling the few who do advance to lesser wizards. Nora had little contact with them. Nora and I were both being considered for the same Chair. Rivals for it, I suppose.”
“Go on.”
Shannon paused. He dared not share more information with Amadi until he was certain of her allegiances.
So he did what academics do best: he threw his hands in the air and began to whine. “This couldn’t come at a worse time, what with the convocation. How can the murderer be caught when everything’s in chaos? And my poor research! I can’t stop it now; I just sent a message to my apprentice.”
Amadi exhaled slowly. “As I said, we hope the investigation will not disrupt the convocation.”
“We? Amadi, shouldn’t the provost’s officers be conducting this investigation?”
She cleared her throat. “Provost Montserrat himself instructed me to lead this investigation.”
Shannon fingered the buttons on his sleeves. “Why should the provost appoint an Astrophell wizard to lead a Starhaven investigation?”
“I carry a letter of recommendation from the arch-chancellor.”
“I don’t doubt your qualification,” he said, though he did doubt her intentions.
Amadi continued, “We must conceal this investigation from the delegates. They won’t be inclined to renew the treaties if they think a murderer is-”
“Yes, Amadi, as you said. But why come to me? No doubt the provost’s officers could have told you about the Spindle Bridge.”
A creaking came from Amadi’s chair once more. “Do you have a familiar?”
“I already told you that I do.”
“I would like to see the creature.”
Shannon nodded. “Certainly. She’ll soon return from delivering a message to my apprentice. But Amadi, you’re investigating a murder; why do you want to see my familiar?”
A long silence stretched out between them. At last the sentinel spoke in a low, controlled tone: “Because you are our primary suspect.”