“You tell them I was coming?” I said.

“I told them you were,” she said, her eyes flicking to Amaranth.

She didn’t say anything more, though… she wasn’t going to be the one to drop the charade that our downstairs guests just wanted a simple chat. I doubted she was privy to anything like what they actually wanted, but she had to know it was more than that.

The downstairs hallway was being occupied by a couple guys in gray suits, one of whom whispered something into the air as we came out of the stairwell. They couldn’t have looked more like guards if they’d been patrolling. Amaranth gave them a big wave as we crossed over to the basement stairs.

I’d somehow been expecting it to be dark in the downstairs lounge, but the lights were on like normal. The TV was even on, showing the local news. There were a few agents watching it. There were about six or seven guys in suits, and they weren’t all dark. There was only one man wearing robes, which were uniformly black to my eyes. That didn’t mean there weren’t others around, of course. I trusted Dee’s sense, even if she was kind of predisposed to notice robes.

They were probably outside, maintaining some sort of perimeter. If they weren’t diabolists, they were wizards of some kind.

The only person I recognized was Del McAvoy, who’d represented Law during our interrogation. That meant I was right about the identity of our guests, and I’d never been less happy to be so. A lot of people didn’t really understand the difference between law enforcement, like the IBF, and intelligence, like Law. They weren’t aware of the role Law had played in international affairs over the past half-century or so, or they believed it to be the stuff of conspiracy theory and over-the-top thrillers. As a student of history, even an amateur one, I knew better.

“Dirty tricks” was too clean a term for the sorts of things Law did. They engaged in assassinations of both the character and the regular type. They’d both instituted and toppled regimes in other nations… they were generally a bit better at the latter than the former, which was ironic given their original charter. Chaos was just that much easier to foment or sustain than order.

There were few limits to what they could do, and no limits on what they would do if they thought they could get away with it. The end always justified the means, and Law had got a lot of mileage out of being able to creatively interpret an end into something that justified the means they wanted to use.

McAvoy had stationed himself behind the front desk. I had been expecting to see him, but while he did look like he wanted to say something, I was sort of surprised that he didn’t approach us.

The other thing that surprised me is that, without realizing it, I’d been expecting to see him looking triumphant or something. I couldn’t read his expression. Nervous? Frustrated? Whatever… he wasn’t happy, and I counted that as a good thing, or at least a neutral one. If I thought he was getting his way in anything, I’d have been really worried.

I was really worried, of course, but that was one specific thing I could be less worried about.

“Ah, you must be Mackenzie Blaise,” a man who surely had my face and name memorized said. He was a tall, broad-built man, with light brown hair that had an impressive amount of spike to it without looking like he’d spiked it up on purpose. He crossed the floor towards us, holding out a hand. “Kent. Art Kent. We’re so glad you could come down to have a little talk to us.”

“Just a talk?” I asked. I took the hand without hesitation. It wasn’t that I trusted him or anything… but if there was a trap for me, I’d sprung it by walking into the room.

“Absolutely,” he said. He glanced at Amaranth. “This must be Amaranth. I’m awfully glad to meet you, but I really think Mackenzie and I should be having this talk in private.”

“Certainly, Mr. Kent,” Amaranth said. “Perhaps your men would like to come with me to the food court, then, so you can be alone?”

He stared at her for several seconds before he burst out laughing.

“Oh, that’s funny,” he said. “But I’m afraid we’ll need them ourselves, to act as an escort.”

“An escort where?” I asked.

“That’s the sort of question I’d be more disposed to answer privately,” he said. “These sorts of things tend to work better, the fewer people we involve.”

“What sorts of things would those be?” I asked.

“Oh, come on… you can’t expect me to answer that,” he said.

“At least tell me what this is about,” I said.

“Oh, you know, really we’re just winding things down in the matter of Leda’s death,” he said.

“You know, I heard on TV that it was a wandering monster,” Amaranth said, with the innocence that only an intrinsically pure being could muster.

“Yeah, well, let’s say it was,” he said. “There is still one or two more steps to be taken before the whole thing can really be resolved to everyone’s satisfaction.” He smirked, like he had some great private joke, and then he decided to share it. “Satisfaction guaranteed, you know? That could be like our motto.”

Charitably, I decided it probably sounded better inside his head.

“I’m really not sure I like where this is going,” I said.

“Look, why don’t you and I just duck into the back office for a few minutes?” he said. “I can answer your questions there, try to set your mind at ease…”

“Talking in front of Amaranth would do more to set my mind at ease than anything else you might do,” I said.

“Well, be that as it may, it’s simply the nature of the beast,” he said. “See, I have to ask you to do your imperial duty, Mackenzie, and I can’t ask that of her, legally. She’s not an imperial subject, you see?”

Somehow, I wasn’t reassured that he’d feel the need to do or avoid anything else based on its legality. He wouldn’t leave Amaranth out of his schemes out of respect for the law. In fact, he probably was only invoking it as a convenient excuse… if I’d walked down the stairs with Ian or Steff, he wouldn’t be swearing them to secrecy and then getting down to business in front of them.

“You’re being a lot friendlier than I expected,” I said.

“Oh? What were you expecting? Whips and chains and thumbscrews? Holy water?” he asked. “I don’t see any reason to resort to those sorts of messy extremes when a little friendly talk will work.”

“If it’s such a friendly talk, why won’t you have it in front of my friend?” I asked.

“You two… if you knew how little I’m actually going to be able to tell you when she’s not in the room, this whole thing would seem silly,” he said.

“And that’s supposed to make me want to hear it?” I asked.

“Listen, and I’m only going to say this once,” he said, his smile freezing in place and his manner changing from a mask of phony friendliness to one of understated but very real menace. “Your assistance is not actually required here.”

“You mean we don’t need to help you?” Amaranth asked, in what I kind of hoped was a deliberate misunderstanding, because he wasn’t exactly being subtle with his meaning.

“I mean we don’t need either of you to help us to get what we want out of your girlfriend,” he said. “Your cooperation is the ideal we strive for. It’s not part of the bare minimum that we need to succeed. So if you don’t want to hear what’s going on, if you don’t want to walk out the door with me under your own power, if you don’t want to cooperate with our efforts here today to resolve the matter to the satisfaction of all parties involved, just say the word and we can skip to the end.”

I looked at Amaranth. She didn’t quite shrug, but the impression was there. It was like she didn’t know what to do or say, and that meant I had to make up my mind.

“Okay,” I said. “We’ll go in the back room. Amaranth’ll be waiting out here. Afterwards I’m going to talk to her before we go anywhere with you.”

“She isn’t coming along,” he said. “Have no illusions about that.”

“Fine,” I said. Hopefully Dee would be able to trail along. “But I’m going to want a mirror to contact my lawyer before we go anywhere.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Jenkins already knows where you’re going,” he said.

As far as reassurances went, this one… didn’t. I couldn’t imagine how or why Lee would have become aware of what they had planned, but if he knew and he’d tried to get me away from the school… probably at the risk of serious repercussions to himself… then I could only think that it would mean my life.

“Remember what I said,” Kent said. “Your cooperation is not needed.”

“But you want it,” I said. “Look, if you’re trying to bargain with me…”

“We’re not,” he said. “I just told you…”

“I know what you told me,” I said. “And taking it at face value, this means that you could have had what you wanted as soon as I walked through the door, or sooner, but you’re holding back and asking for my cooperation. This means either you’re bluffing… and don’t bother jumping in there because I know that you’re not, but logically it’s one of the two possibilities… or you really want my cooperation. You’re asking me for something. You’re trying to convince me to give it to you. This is bargaining.”

I had a sudden memory, clear and sharp, of having stood in that room weeks ago and standing up to authority without even meaning to. That had ended with me running out of the room to throw up. I felt like I wanted to throw up, on a mental level, but physically my stomach was almost placid.

How things had changed.

“Okay,” Kent said. “Well, what do you think I should give you for cooperating?”

“Some reassurance that when we’re done I’ll be coming back here safe and sound,” I said.

“Absolutely,” he said immediately.

“Uh huh,” I said.

“You don’t believe me?” he asked. “I give you my word that no harm will come to you.”

“Yeah, when I don’t believe you in the first place, your word’s not worth anything,” I said. “See how that works?”

“Just because you don’t trust someone doesn’t mean they’re never telling the truth,” he said.

“No, it means I’ll never know if you’re telling the truth,” I said. “Which means the first time I could be sure that I’m going to be back here safe and sound would be when I got back here safe and sound, which is exactly the same boat I’m in without your word. You said before you can’t tell me much. If you want my cooperation, tell me straight up: do you even know if I’m going to be able to come back here tonight, alive and whole?”

Several seconds passed.

“I do not,” he said. “But I can tell you, honestly and unequivocally, that no one has shared any plans with me that would involve detaining you or harming you in any way.”

I took that to mean that Mr. Kent’s job consisted entirely of delivering me to someone else who did have plans for me. My mind ticked through several possibilities without prompting.

The most obvious explanation was that I was being arrested, for a value of arrested that didn’t involve a trial of any kind. But they knew I wasn’t behind Leda’s death and I wasn’t going to be publicly scapegoated, so there was a big question of why they’d go through so much trouble.

Perhaps Law had cut a deal with Mercy… she was an assassin, after all, and while I believed her when she said she wouldn’t step outside the bounds of the law, it wasn’t illegal when Law did so. If they engaged her to take care of Iona in exchange for ownership of me… well, I didn’t know if the Department of Law would go that far or not. If they ever had pressed a citizen into slavery to pay off a clandestine operative, it wasn’t like it would make the news. Mercy wouldn’t be able to parade me around or anything, but my life with her wouldn’t be better for that fact, and it wouldn’t impact her long-term plans.

On the other hand, if Mercy had a slave whose provenance she couldn’t ever reveal or explain to the authorities, Law would have her on a leash for the rest of my life. I hoped she was too smart for that. I wasn’t at all sure that she was. She was very old and very experienced, but she seemed to be more than a little cracked around the edges.

Then there was my grandmother. She’d given me until the end of the week to change my mind about coming home with her… it was possible that she’d always had a back-up plan in mind in case I didn’t assent. Did she have the kind of pull needed to get a notoriously clandestine and autonomous imperial agency to abduct me for her? I would have doubted that very much, but I also wouldn’t have believed she was ever in the White Dragons if I hadn’t been handed proof of that. Maybe she was owed favors.

There were no happy outcomes that I could see… there was no reason for the cloak-and-dagger games or the levels of secrecy if someone had found out my part in the anonymous tip and wanted to thank me, for instance. As bad as all of the above were, though, I could see one that was worse, in terms of immediate consequences and long-term prospects.

Unfortunately, it also seemed to be the most likely.

I wasn’t going to be the public scapegoat, but Kent had said that Law was trying to resolve the matter to everyone’s satisfaction. The public might be satisfied, but that didn’t mean the royal family of Mariinsky Lake would be satisfied with blaming their daughter’s death on a random accident involving a wandering monster bypassing the protection of the paths. They would most likely require an actual culprit, somebody who could be punished… brought to something resembling justice.

If Leda had been from any other part of the world, the question of their satisfaction would probably be seen as a diplomatic matter, and it would be handled by diplomats, not spies and assassins. Imperial diplomats would look for the most diplomatic way to convey to royal visitors that they wouldn’t be allowed to torture or kill imperial citizens no matter what.

But because Leda’s family were from the Shift, any hint of tension with them would carry a hint of a flare-up in the still-smoldering ashes of the Chaos Wars. That meant that Law was on the case. Investigators from the Judgment Department would try to resolve things according to the laws of the empire. Diplomats from the Estate Department could be counted to represent the rights of imperial citizens. Law was old school and hard core. It dealt with subjects, not citizens.

There were probably individual agents and factions within the agency that would have welcomed a return to the previous levels of open hostility, but the official policy was that they were supposed to prevent further wars, not try to win them. Would they sacrifice the life of one imperial subject to further that or any other goal? Only if they were sure that a few more lives wouldn’t hurt anything.

But I believed Kent when he said they would do what they wanted with or without my cooperation. I believed they would, and I knew they could. Even the one wizard I knew was in the room would be enough to make sure I was incapacitated before I could so much as scream. They had to be more careful in dealing with Amaranth, but there was a limit to how much resistance a pacifistic nymph could offer.

Well, directly, anyway.

“Okay,” I said to Kent. “Let’s just do it, then. There’s no point in having a big cloistered briefing or anything when you’ve admitted you don’t have anything to tell me. Let’s just go.” I turned to Amaranth, and I almost literally prayed that she would understand why I said what I was about to say, and she wouldn’t say anything to undercut the effect of it. “If I’m not back in two hours… call your mother.”

“Er, it might take a little bit longer than that,” Kent said, visibly uncomfortable.

“Call her anyway,” I said. “Tell her to be ready.”

That was better anyway, I thought. It made it sound like we expected something specific to happen when Mother Khaele heard from Amaranth, rather than simply notifying her that something had happened.

To my considerable relief, Amaranth simply nodded.

“Well, then… I suppose that’s… well… your chariot awaits,” Kent said, gesturing towards the front door.

Soon: In the dragon’s den.

Reminder: The roommate derby will conclude Saturday night at 11:59 central standard time. It’s been a great success and I couldn’t have hoped for more, but if you would still like to participate (as some people have told me they won’t have money before today), please keep the deadline in mind as I’ll find myself in an awkward position if I get a bunch of “votes” arriving after it.

If you haven’t the money to participate but you would like a chance to put a mark on the year two story, I’m going to be making a poll/discussion post about which minor characters people are most interested in. Feel free to throw out stuff like that in the comments at any time… it’s never too soon to start whipping up support for your favorites, and it’s always encouraging for me to hear about what and who people like in my stories. But I’m going to make a centralized place so I don’t have to go searching or trying to divine trends.

The plaza in front of the admin building that had been packed with students during my ordeal in the labyrinth was now being used as a parking lot. There was a jumble of black coaches with the IBF crest on the doors, a few impressive-looking carriages of various designs, and a couple newswagons standing in front of the building.

A pair of imperial agents were stationed in front of the door. A few more were patrolling the area around the building with uniformed provincials. There were crossbowmen on the roof.

“This seems like a bit of overkill,” Ian said. “All this to secure an office building?”

“There are a lot of VIBs in residence right now,” Lee said as we approached the entryway. “The chief ambassador from the Sunward Lands is here. An imperial envoy, too. It’s a complex situation, and it’ll probably get more complicated as it goes along. No one wants to fight the Chaos Wars again.”

So saying, Lee stepped up to address the nearer of the agents by the door, who had stepped slightly forward and to the side to intercept our path. He jumped to the side as the door behind him swung out and Callahan pushed through.

“Speak for yourself,” she said to Lee. Her eyes flicked over our little group. “Are you their lawyer?”

“Uh, hello,” Lee said. “Yes. Are you a friend of…”

“Can I hire you to draft me a statement that can’t be legally construed as a threat?” she said.

“I’m sorry, young lady, but we’re a little busy just this moment,” Lee said. “Maybe you should catch up with your schoolmates back at the dorm?”

I braced myself for something ugly to happen. Callahan’s braying laughter was not much prettier than anything I might have expected.

“Uh, she’s actually the arena coach,” Ian said.

“Yeah, and I’m not used to being stood up,” Callahan said to him. “Not twice, anyway.”

“It won’t happen twice,” Ian said. “I promise. Something c…”

“If you say ‘something came up‘, I will kick your ass so hard your attorney will have to invent a new tort to seek redress,” Callahan said. “They will call it ‘megassault’. The law that defines it will be longer than the combined works of the living elven masters. It will take longer to perform the actions described therein than it will to read aloud. I will do it twice.”

“I left you an echo!” Ian said.

“Yes,” she said, and she smiled. Callahan’s smile held a lot of cheer in it. It didn’t have much warmth. “And I hope you meant what you said, because I’m going to hold you to it.”

“I’m sorry, but we really have to run,” Lee said. “We have a meeting. It was nice meeting you, Coach.”

“Yeah, same to you, buddy,” Callahan said. She gave Ian a slap on the shoulder and went on her way, whistling and skipping.

“I wonder what she was doing here,” Amaranth said. “I can’t imagine that faculty are just coming and going like that if security’s such a concern.”

“She was probably being questioned,” I said. “She seems to have a thing for dismembering students.”

“Baby!” Amaranth said.

“Um, they might have been asking her about students she knows particularly well, outside of class,” Ian said. I thought at first that he was talking about himself, but then he added, “You know, on the subject of people with a thing for dismemberment.”

Was Steff actually that strong a suspect? It seemed like her alibi was almost as good as mine. It seemed like a cursory examination should reveal that she wasn’t physically capable of much in the way of violence at the moment.

“You can ask her all about it at practice,” Lee said. He turned to the rather bemused looking guard. “Hi, Lee Jenkins. I’m bringing my clients Mackenzie Blaise, Ian Mason, and Amaranth to sit down with Inspector Gregory.”

“Uh, right,” the imperial said. “I just need some ID.”

Lee showed him his credentials and we handed him our student IDs. He tapped them with a wand and then held open the door for us.

“Go right through to main reception,” he said.

Inside it was clear that the building had been taken over. It was a hive of activity, people in white shirts scribbling on tablets and peering into mirrors. There probably weren’t so many people in the whole building on a typical Sunday as there were in the main foyer. I doubted many of them were school employees.

“You Blaise?” a blunt-nosed guy with a slouchy hat, very investigative-looking, said while barely glancing at iu.

“This is Ms. Mackenzie Blaise,” Lee said, putting his hands on my shoulders. “We’re here for Inspector Gregory.”

“He wants you in Conference Room B,” the man said, gesturing with a half-eaten apple. “Says he’ll be there shortly.”

“Thank you very much,” Lee said, and he led the way through the throng of people. “This is more of a madhouse than I expected,” he said just loud enough that we could hear him over the general activity. “I guess someone decided to move the whole operation here instead of running it from the Enwich office.”

“Well, my dear boy,” a smooth and cultured voice said, “you do know that this is one of the best-protected offices in the plains.

The voice had a clear quality that cut through the din like a tiny chime. I turned at the sound to see a man who didn’t look at all like an imperial agent, but neither did he look much like a school official or another lawyer… of those possibilities, the last one was probably the best fit, but he’d have to be way more high-level than Lee. His hair was a silvery gray. His face was rather prominently boned, but unlined. He managed to radiate an aura of both age and vitality. He was tall and broad-shouldered, but wiry. I couldn’t claim to be any kind of an expert on fashion, but his suit looked sharp to me and seemed to be tailored to him. It was definitely of a higher quality than the ones worn by the imperial agents who were hanging around.

He could have been the imperial envoy Lee mentioned, or possibly an ambassador of some kind.

“What an unexpected pleasure, Mr. Jenkins,” he said. “Artie told me that you were otherwise engaged.”

“I’m afraid I am, Mr. Embries,” Lee said. The name clicked in my head as being familiar. He gestured towards us. “I’m representing some other clients… Mr. Pendragon said it wouldn’t impact our ability to serve your interests.”

The silver-haired man glanced at Amaranth and Ian, but his gaze settled on me. He was looking at my face, but there was little sense of connection in his eye contact. It was a one-way transaction. I felt like I was very small, and standing quivering before something immense.

“Oh,” Mr. Embries said. “How very… interesting.”

I didn’t know why, or what was so interesting about a lawyer representing some students, but the idea that he found anything about me interesting was itself terrifying. The very thought of his interest was like the baleful gaze of the mermaids in their predatory aspect, magnified a thousandfold.

“I would love to stay and chat, but I think the inspector is waiting for us,” Lee said.

“Well, I’ll let you get to that,” Embries said. He clasped Lee’s hand with both of his. “Always a pleasure.” He looked at me again, though it seemed he was still talking to Lee. “I’ve been meaning to acquaint myself with your client.”

“That’s… not a good idea right now,” Lee said. “She’s involved in arbitration against your… patron.”

So he was a school official, it seemed, though Lee’s choice of wording seemed odd and deliberate. Then I remembered where I knew his name from. I’d seen it and heard it around the school. It showed up on school letterhead and other publications: Edmund Embries. He was the vice-chancellor of Magisterius University.

He seemed a lot more impressive in person than the actual chancellor… though she seemed a lot more like a school administrator.

“Who the fuck was that?” Ian asked in a hoarse whisper.

“Merciful Mother,” Amaranth breathed.

They both seemed to be a little… awestruck.

“Yes, he can have that effect if you’re not prepared,” Lee said. He put his hands on their backs and gave them a little push.

“But who was that?” Ian asked.

“The school’s vice-chancellor,” I said.

“Another client,” Lee said.

“Can you introduce me to him?” Amaranth said. “I think I’d like to get to know him better. Maybe meet him for dinner…”

“Let’s just keep walking,” Lee said, giving the pair of them a harder shove that actually got them moving. We followed a sign to the conference room, which was the size of a small office, made smaller by a large table. A woman in a dark blue suit was scribing a stack of papers in the corner.

Lee knocked on the door frame so as not to startle her.

“Hello,” he said. “We’re supposed to be meeting Mike Gregory?”

“Oh, right,” she said. “I was just looking for an open autoscribe. I’ll be out of here in a second.”

Lee gestured towards some chairs and the three of us sat down. He remained standing, watching the woman like a hawk until she left, then closed the door behind her.

“When we’re dealing with Gregory, remember to keep things business-like,” he said to Amaranth. “Don’t be overly familiar or friendly with him. Don’t get all cute or coy and act like you’ve never met him, but we don’t want him to be uncomfortable with handling you.”

“I think I can manage that,” Amaranth said.

“And all of you watch your tempers,” Lee said. “I don’t expect Mike Gregory to bait anyone, but even if he’s officially heading the investigation there are bound to be a lot of cooks eager for a chance to stir the pot. Don’t make it easy for anyone to make things difficult for you.”

“The way you keep giving us advice, it seems like it would be easier to just let you do the talking,” Ian said.

“That’s about the shape of it,” Lee said. “There’s a reason people call lawyers ‘mouthpieces’, and it’s not just because we do PR. We don’t have to go so far, because that would take a lot more prep work and would come off as more than a little obstructionist when we want to appear cooperative… but really, if there’s any doubt, let me do the talking. Best rule of thumb.”

There was a quick rap on the door a short time later. Lee jumped up and opened the door. The middle-aged man from the inn was there. Behind him was a tall, red-faced man in a tannish coat. He was unwinding a scarf and wearing gloves, so it looked like he’d just got there.

“Hi there,” Lee said to Gregory. “Lee Jenkins, Pendragon and Associates. We reflected briefly. Thank you for making time for us. My clients would like to get back to the comfort and support of their friends during this tragic time.”

“Yeah,” Gregory said, glancing over us. His eyes lingered uncomfortably on Amaranth. He shook his head. “It’s a damned tragedy alright.”

The ruddy-faced man stepped inside the room, and the inspector shut the door.

“I’m Inspector Michael Gregory. This is Del McAvoy,” Gregory said, holding his ID out to Lee in one hand while gesturing with the other to the other man who was pulling off his gloves. “He’s here from Law, in an advisory capacity.”

“Oh, it’s nice to know the empire’s sparing no resources in this investigation,” Lee said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gregory said. He took a seat on the other side of the corner nearest us. McAvoy remained standing. “Here’s the deal: none of you are under arrest. I’d just like to ask you a few questions, primarily concerning your whereabouts last night and this morning. This conversation will be scried, autotranscribed, and echoed. This is an imperial investigation, so you do not have the privilege of remaining silent. You do have the privilege of having an attorney present during questioning. This privilege can be revoked. Do you understand?”

We nodded. Ian mumbled yes. Amaranth said, “Yes, we understand.”

“Good,” he said. “So… you folks enjoy your stay at the Palace?”

He said it really conversationally. He sounded weary, so the friendliness was a little forced, but it didn’t seem phoney. I looked at Lee, who nodded at me. It seemed like a neutral opening and it touched directly on the fact that we were nowhere near campus when the bad stuff happened.

I nodded at the inspector.

“Very much so,” Amaranth said. “Sir.”

“It’s kind of an unusual choice for students on a weekend getaway,” Gregory said. “I’d think the travelinns nearer to the gates would be more popular.”

“Well, this was special, for Veil,” Amaranth said. “We had a chance to splurge a little, and Mackenzie wanted to go to the Crystal Palace.”

“Why there in particular?” he asked me.

“I stayed there once before,” I said. “I liked it… the architecture, the ambience. I’m kind of a history buff. The pre-Republican architecture…”

I trailed off, not wanting to ramble. I also felt self-conscious, because of course the Crystal Palace inn wasn’t actually pre-Republican. It was built in imitation of that style. According to the cheesy kids’ mystery books I’d read when I was younger, claiming to be a history buff and then misidentifying faux pre-Republican architecture as the real thing would have been proof positive that I was secretly a murderer. Fortunately for me, it seemed that Inspector Gregory read a better class of mysteries.

“That prior visit, would that have been with Miss Hoshinotama?” McAvoy asked.

“I’d like to leave my clients’ personal lives out of this,” Lee said.

“Noted,” Gregory said. He held up a hand to forestall the Lawman. “You folks leave the inn last night?”

“We did,” I said. “Amaranth and I.”

“I was there the whole time,” Ian said. “All night, I mean.”

“Where’d you go?” Gregory asked.

“We had invitations to a private party at a club,” Amaranth said. “The Tomb of Horrors.”

“What sort of club is that?” McAvoy asked.

“It’s a fetish nightclub,” Gregory said. McAvoy made a surprised sound and Gregory looked over his shoulder at him. “My wife has family here,” he explained.

“My clients’ whereabouts at various points during the evening, and in particular during the time of the alleged murder, can be verified with little difficulty,” Lee said. “It’s unquestionable that they were in the Crystal Palace, under the exact same roof as you, between the hours of one and three in the morning. You shouldn’t even have to fight the proprietors for access to the lobby security images. I’ve already sent a release. Further corroboration can be had from the nightclub and the livery company. If it aids the investigation, I’d be happy to put in a bit of legwork myself there.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Gregory said.

“You know, it’s the ‘under the same roof’ part that bothers me,” McAvoy said. “It’s awfully convenient.”

“I’d call it foresight on the part of my clients to find safer activities that keep them far away from campus on a notoriously dangerous night,” Lee said. “There are only so many inns in the city center, and as Ms. Blaise stated, she has stayed at the Crystal Palace before.”

“Your clients’ whereabouts aren’t really in question, Mr. Jenkins,” Gregory said. “It’s damned hard for a half-demon to get in and out of town without being noticed. We’re checking on that. If you’re not being truthful with us, we’ll find out of course.”

“I can assure you, we are being perfectly truthful,” Lee said. “My clients have no reason to lie and nothig to hide.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Gregory said again. He seemed to be tired of the whole thing. “We just have a few other questions.”

“My clients will be happy to answer anything that helps move the investigation forward,” Lee said.

“Great,” the inspector said. “Were you acquainted with the deceased?”

“Only in passing,” Amaranth said. “We lived on the same floor. She seemed nice enough, if a little quiet and kind of aloof, and kind of snide.”

“How was she nice?” Gregory asked.

Amaranth shrugged.

“I always just had the feeling that if I got to know her, I’d find out she was nice,” Amaranth said.

“Did you have any conflict with her?” he asked.

“Oh, no,” Amaranth said.

He looked at me. I shifted uncomfortably. I had shared a bit of an angry confrontation with Leda once. I didn’t want to make it out to be more than it was, but I also didn’t want to seem like I was covering it up. The gossipmongers on the floor would be sure to spread it around. I looked at Lee.

“We’ve established that Ms. Mackenzie was elsewhere at the time of death,” he said.

“It’s a simple question,” McAvoy said.

“‘Conflict’ is perhaps an overly broad term,” Lee said.

“Well, narrow it down for us a bit, then,” Gregory said to me. “Tell me what you’re thinking of that’s making you so uncomfortable.”

“It was during the student elections,” I said. “We… sort of disagreed about the polite way to refer to a transgendered person. I was offended, but it wasn’t like a violent fight or anything.”

“So, Leda had a problem with Steffain Johnson,” McAvoy said.

“My clients barely knew the deceased,” Lee said. “I don’t think they could answer questions about her opinions of others.”

“It wasn’t a question,” McAvoy said with a shrug.

“I think if you check on Steff, you’ll find that she wasn’t in a position to do much this weekend,” I said.

“You have firsthand knowledge of that, even though you were in town?” McAvoy asked.

“Are you going to invoke the right to compel in order to get my clients to speculate about the mindset of the deceased and what other people may or may not have done while they themselves were out of town?” Lee asked.

“No,” Gregory said. “We’re not.”

“Not yet,” McAvoy said. “Not right now. But I know your clients there are intimately familiar with Steff Johnson, who was intimate with our dead princess. I know there was bad blood between the two. I know Johnson is a sick puppy. I don’t doubt that your clients were out of town when it all went down. My question is, did they have some kind of foreknowledge? A warning? An inkling that something bad was going to happen?”

Lee looked at us. Amaranth very calmly shook her head.

“No,” Lee said. “The answer to that is a very simple no. As they have said, they had invitations to a party.”

“Or two of them did,” McAvoy said. He looked at Ian. “Why’d you go along? Nothing better to do on Veil Night?”

Ian looked at Amaranth and me.

“Than stay in an inn room with two hot girls?” he said.

Gregory stood up and turned around to have a quick whispered conversation with McAvoy. McAvoy was a loud whisperer, but I still couldn’t understand what he was saying… the only parts that were really intelligible were a few odd exclamations of “you can’t be serious” and similar things.

Lee leaned in and whispered to me, “I think we’re going to be done here soon. Probably not done-done, unfortunately… this guy’s got an axe to grind and that’s going to complicate things… but I think we’ll be out of here while they hash out what they’re actually doing.”

I nodded.

Gregory seemed to have cowed McAvoy a bit. He took his seat again.

“We have a staff diabolist,” he said to me. “He’s a little busy at the moment but he’s going to want to talk to you.” He looked at Lee. “Your client going to be available for that, Mr. Jenkins?”

“What’s the nature of this discussion going to be?” Lee asked.

“Well, it’s not so much a conversation,” Gregory said. “He needs direct contact with her aura, so he can screen for her presence at the scene and in the impressions kept by the wall wards in Enwich.”

I went stiff in my chair, remembering when Dee had probed my aura.

“How ‘direct’ are we talking?” Lee asked.

“Visual,” Gregory said. “Completely hands-off, from what I understand.” He looked at me. “If you’re magic sensitive, you might feel a tingle.”

“If it helps to positively establish that my client remained in Enwich and was nowhere near the fountain, then I think we’d rather do it sooner than later,” Lee said. “On a related subject, I understand that a paladin has already screened the site for demonic activity and declared it clean.”

“Your client’s grandmother,” McAvoy said. “The coincidences abound.”

“Believe me, no one was more surprised by her presnece than my client,” Lee said. “And while I hope that the investigation isn’t going to hinge on her unsolicited testimony, I don’t think it can be discounted out of hand, under the circumstances.”

“We’re not discounting it,” Gregory said. “We’re taking every lead seriously… and that means verifying the credible ones.”

“One thing,” McAvoy said. “Do your clients know that Steffain Johnson keeps notebooks filled with gruesome pictures depicting grisly murders, including their own?”

“Uh, yeah,” I said. I shrugged uncomfortably. “Sort of. I mean, I know she likes to doodle me… and I know how her imagination runs, but… well, it’s not like she’s actually going to do those things.”

“I actually have copies of some of Steff’s drawings of me,” Amaranth said. “She’s making a whole set of them by my request, from a sort of script I wrote.”

“Again, Mr. McAvoy, my clients will be happy to answer anything that furthers the investigation,” Lee said. “But trying to draw them into speculation about their fellow students isn’t going to benefit anyone.”

“It could benefit them if it removes a danger to their own safety,” McAvoy said. “I’m sorry, I thought they might feel a little differently about protecting their ‘friend’ if they knew… I guess I was wrong.”

“Steff’s not my friend,” Ian said. “She creeps the fuck out of me, actually, but that doesn’t somehow translate into knowledge that she’s a murder.”

“If you don’t have any further questions about my clients’ whereabouts or anything else similarly relevant, I think they’d like to return to their dorms,” Lee said.

“I’ll tell you what, how about I see if I can get the diabolist to look your client over before she goes, just so we don’t have to bother you again today?” Gregory said.

“That would be great,” Lee said.

“You folks can just wait right here,” Gregory said. He took McAvoy by the sleeve and started guiding him towards the door.

I looked at Lee, thinking that… despite the unsettling focus on Steff, this was all far too easy. My mind didn’t like the whole “wait right here, we’ll be right back and then you can leave” thing. Lee seemed to be fairly at ease with it, though.

“I told you this would over soon,” Lee said when the imperial agents had left.

“Lee… that Steff Johnson they keep talking about is our best friend,” Amaranth said. “It seems like Mr. McAvoy’s out to get her.”

“At the risk of sounding callous, that’s something for her lawyer to worry about,” Lee said. “If it goes any further than one Law Department’s pet theories, she will have a lawyer, and if it comes to that, I’ll make sure he or she is apprised of the fact that Mr. McAvoy had a prejudicial attitude towards her and may have been skewing the investigation. There’s not much more that we can do. Be her friend. Be supportive. But don’t try to fight her battle. You don’t even want to fight your own battle. When dealing with the law, fighting is the last resort of trained professionals.”

“You’re right, I know,” Amaranth said. She sighed. “It just… it really sucks.”

“That’s the law for you,” Lee said. “When mortals are forced to encounter it, the best thing to hope for is that it’s over quickly, and we’re getting that.”

It was a good twenty minutes before the diabolist, a gray-robed man whose name (first or last, I wasn’t sure) was given as Malcolm, was shown in. He didn’t say more than two words, and they weren’t to me in particular… he just looked at me, said, “Got it,” and then turned around and walked out.

“Thank you all for your time,” Gregory said. “I’ll be in touch with you if we need anything else from them,” he said to Lee.

“Thanks,” Lee said, shaking his hand. “If there’s anything we can do to help move the investigation forward, please don’t hesitate.” He stepped past Gregory out of the room, then turned around as if to shepherd us safely through the portal.

“Say ‘hi’ to your wife for me!” Amaranth said cheerfully as we filed past.

“Er, yeah,” Gregory said, turning red. He coughed into his hand and then looked at me. “You know, some interesting folks have got your back.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he said. “Just… interesting.”

Next: Steff a fall girl? Two a stool pigeon?? Rhetorical questions???

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