The night was more than half through when Aelia found herself dozing. She jerked upright, blinking rapidly and trying to remember where she’d been in the notes. To the side, Magistrate Camus was slumped over in his chair, snoring softly. Then, with a particularly loud snore, he jerked up in surprise, apparently having shocked himself awake. He gave Aelia a startled glance as if surprised to find another person in the room.

  He stared blankly at the notes before him for a minute before speaking. “My apologies.”

  “I think,” Aelia groggily stood to give some stimulation to her tired mind, “we are hitting our capacity for what can be expected in one night.”

  The magistrate glanced back down at the notes, then back to Aelia. “We...have enough for the meetings tomorrow, at least, yes?”

  “We do,” Aelia confirmed. “...absent unexpected changes.” Which meant that they would have to take the gathering a single day at a time. Hardly a comfortable position, but manageable. More manageable, presumably, than attempting to operate without sleep.

  The magistrate rose reluctantly from the desk, “I’ll head home then...” A look of horror spread over his face, and his hand rose to meet his forehead. “Oh, gods. I didn’t tell my wife I’d be late.” He winced, “I apologize in advance if she murders me before the morning.”

  It was an absurdly mundane concern among all the chaos, and Aelia found a brief, surprising smile touched her lips. Maybe she was just too tired. “I trust you will be present tomorrow, magistrate.”

  “I’ll do my best,” the magistrate bowed, still looking terrified as he departed.

  Aelia remained a moment longer to put out the lamps, resisting the temptation to take one last look at the notes. They’d still be there tomorrow.

  When she left the room, however, she felt a presence in her mind.

  “Esharah?” Aelia asked.

  “I found the cheese!” the reply came.

  Aelia paused for a long moment. It surely wasn’t just sleepiness that made that statement incomprehensible.

  “Is...that a metaphor I’m unfamiliar with?” Aelia guessed.

  “I’ll meet you in a moment. Please send for Lady Ashnya and Madame Truthteller.”

  The message ended, leaving Aelia bewildered. The night, it seemed, was not quite over.

  ***

  Heart pounding, Esharah led the serving boy Geoffrey into the room where an executor and two fourth circle mind vis gathered. Geoffrey seemed terrified just to be in the same room as four women, even regardless of those women’s identities. Esharah felt for him. She too was terrified. If she was wrong about all this, she’d just expose her incompetence in a rather spectacular way. If she was right, the implications were little better.

  “What have you found, Esharah?” Madame Truthteller asked.

  Esharah took a deep breath, inadvertently feeling the minds around her as she did so. Geoffrey’s fear. Etrani’s interest and expectation, only barely surviving her fatigue. Lady Ashnya’s rage, just barely held behind her aura of calm. Rage that anyone would do this to the governor.

  Hanging above all, Madame Truthteller’s presence. Patiently waiting, ready to judge.

  “I’ve determined three things in the investigation,” Esharah began. “First, the poison appears to come from a plant called witchflower.”

  Lady Ashnya sucked in a breath, eyes flashing.

  “I am familiar with witchflower poisoning,” Madame Truthteller spoke without a trace of emotion in her voice.

  “Then you are aware it is particularly effective when used on vis?” Esharah asked.

  Lady Ashnya and Madame Truthteller glanced at each other, something passing between the two master Mindspeakers.

  “But Governor Iraias is not vis.” Etrani just looked puzzled.

  “Not officially,” Esharah said, eyes on the two who had more access to Governor Iraias’ mind than any others.

  “Nor in actuality,” Lady Ashnya said slowly.

  Esharah stared, trying to read past the lie. But finding nothing.

  “She speaks true,” Madame Truthteller confirmed.

  Esharah frowned. Neither appeared to be lying.

  “The claims that Governor Iraias is a mind vis are only rumors,” Lady Ashnya said. “False ones. But such rumors...they are common. Aren’t they, Geoffrey?”

  The boy jumped, looking shocked at being addressed. His eyes darted around the room, as if looking any of them in the eye would bring about some sort of curse. “Y-y-yes, ma’am. All the staff have heard the rumors. No one believes that nonsense, though! Not among the staff at least.” The boy looked...proud? No, almost worshipful. “We know that the governor’s proof you don’t really need vis to be a good leader.”

  So, the governor was an inspiration to people like Geoffrey. The thought that he could inspire anything other than fear was something Esharah struggled with. Yet the boy’s loyalty was real.

  “There is, however, an inkling of truth,” Lady Ashnya said. “Governor Iraias has no more vis power than any common mortal...but he has cultivated what little he does possess.”

  It was Esharah and Etrani’s turn to exchange a look. This one puzzled from both of them.

  “I don’t follow,” Esharah said.

  “All living beings possess the energy of life and spirit,” Madame Truthteller explained. “Some few can shape that power into the manner we call ‘vis’. Governor Iraias did not possess that power. But he has tried to. Many, many times. Mental exercises, special potions, spiritual practices...none yielded results. He never manifested the Brand, never ascended to the first circle. But...the process has increased the energy within him. Not so much as even a child of the first circle, but more than the ordinary human.”

  “Then, the poisoner either falsely believed Governor Iraias was vis...or they knew about his efforts to become so,” Esharah concluded. “Who would fit that?”

  Another glance between the two fourth circle mindspeakers. Lady Ashnya was the one to answer, “If they truly believed the rumors that he was vis, it could be anyone. As for who knew about his efforts...it was a closely guarded secret.”

  Judging by the surprise rolling off of Geoffrey, common house servants didn’t know.

  “The two of us knew for certain.” Madame Truthteller indicated Lady Ashnya. “As would Vestra and Nadyar Velian.”

  “Would Egor vis Golqan and Domus vis-Magis Gladius not know?” Etrani asked, naming the other two fourth circles. Domus vis-Magis Gladius hadn’t even made an appearance at the gathering. Esharah herself had never spoken to the hulking bear beastkin. Septentrion’s “Shield of Stone” spent even less time in Northstar than Egor did.

  “No,” Lady Ashnya said firmly. “They’ve nothing to do with it. I myself gathered materials for the efforts every time. Each of the others were only included by necessity. Madame Truthteller, of course, has full access to the governor’s mind. Vestra and Nadyar are his bodyguards. They couldn’t help but know.”

  “Then allow me to present what else I’ve learned,” Esharah gestured for Geoffrey to step forward. The boy did so reluctantly, squirming as all eyes turned towards him again. “There were tasters handling the wine. So, the poison must have been added to the cup between when it left the kitchens and when the governor received it.”

  She opened up Geoffrey’s memories and shared them with the room. Geoffrey gasped and cringed back as the weight of Madame Truthteller’s mind descended, only relaxing when Lady Ashnya’s soothing aura expanded to relieve the pressure.

  With Geoffrey relaxed, the memories were easier to follow this time. They could watch the full process as Geoffrey walked from the kitchens with a tray of wine and cheese. As his attention focused on dodging guests and weaving his way towards the governor. Only the faintest flicker of awareness as a glance back to the tray found the cheese gone.

  “That,” Esharah noted, “is the only point at which the tray was tampered with. A single second, at most, where Geoffrey’s eyes were off the tray.”

  “You...assume the cheese thief is the same one who poisoned the governor?” Madame Truthteller’s brow furrowed. “Foolish to leave evidence of tampering, if so. Why would someone skilled enough to administer the poison so swiftly do so in such a manner?”

  Lady Ashnya’s eyes widened in horror and dawning awareness. “Because he does so all the time.”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Esharah leapt back to another memory.

  A previous trip carrying the wine and cheese. Again, Geoffrey dodged around guests. The crowd was thick in this area. And in this memory Geoffrey saw clear as day when a long tail slipped onto the tray.

  Nadyar Velian’s tail snatched a piece of cheese and withdrew just as swiftly. Geoffrey was ready for it this time and didn’t drop the tray. He kept it steady and continued on.

  When Esharah withdrew, she saw that Lady Ashnya and Madame Truthteller came to the same conclusion she had. Nadyar Velian had been swift, and Geoffrey took little notice. So little notice that Nadyar Velian could easily have done more.

  Geoffrey trembled, “S-Sir Nadyar Velian always takes morsels. Or glasses. We...we just make sure to add extra to the trays so that he can filch some and there’ll still be enough for the other guests. He...he’s always done it.”

  Always did it. A habit ingrained in the man. A small sign of petty corruption among the citadel staff that everyone turned a blind eye to. Privileges of a fourth circle vis who could take what he wanted without anyone protesting. All vis of such power took liberties. Vestra thought she could take any man she desired. Madame Truthteller viewed all minds as hers to examine, privacy be damned. Nadyar Velian could steal whatever he wished, and no one dared complain.

  This time, he’d given back far more than he’d taken.

  “This...is not proof,” Etrani noted. “We have no witnesses who saw Nadyar Velian administer poison. We don’t even have a witness that he took the cheese.”

  “Indeed,” Madame Truthteller agreed. “All you have is an absence of evidence. A hole in a memory that you’ve chosen to fill.”

  “Yes,” Esharah conceded. “But it’s a hole that Nadyar Velian fills perfectly.” She paused, “And Nadyar Velian does not belong to another delegation. He is Septentrion’s own. Which means the only justice that applies...is our justice.”

  The words felt bitter as they came out. Echoes of the exact twisted logic that she’d applied as an inquisitor. She’d damned dozens of the undeserving with that logic.

  She damned the brother of the very serving boy who stood before her.

  Perhaps now it could fall on someone who deserved it.

  Madame Truthteller smiled, “Then let us see what Nadyar Velian has to say in his defense.”

  * * *

  Esharah waited in a room filled with vis of the fourth circle. Lady Ashnya, Madame Truthteller, Egor vis Golqan, and Vestra vis Nightblood. All ready to spring a trap on prey deadlier than any beast.

  The door creaked open to announce Nadyar Velian’s arrival. The fourth-circle dezar slipped inside, swiftly enough to blur the eye. Showing no care or suspicion whatsoever. Esharah didn’t dare delve into his mind yet, only watch the outer edges. Nadyar Velian wasn’t a mind domain vis, but he had a mind difficult to read. Quick thoughts that danced just out of reach, too fast and fleeting to grasp onto anything specific.

  “Quickest among us, and still always late,” Vestra was no actress, so she didn’t bother to disguise the venom in her face. Thankfully, it was only marginally more venomous than normal. She had no need to disguise her hatred when she normally wore it openly.

  “What’s the news, then?” Nadyar Velian asked, looking to each of the other fourth circles in turn, eyes passing over Esharah almost entirely. “Is it the governor?”

  “Governor Iraias remains stable,” Lady Ashnya said, aura of calm expanding. Esharah marveled at her self-control. Even used to her mind now, even having seen the depths of her anger, Esharah could barely sense the hatred and righteous vengeance pulsing below her calm.

  “Esharah has found a clue in the investigation,” Madame Truthteller’s voice was even calmer. So mastered over her emotions she might as well be a talking corpse. “One that could very well lead us directly to the culprit.”

  Even watching closely, Esharah barely saw the tensing in Nadyar Velian’s muscles. The flicker of thought was even faster, a mere blip in her mind before it was gone. It was too fast, but a feeling remained. A sense of a snarl of a cornered animal before it lunged.

  “Then let’s hear the name.” Nadyar Velian leapt to his feet, eyes flashing. “We’ll catch the bastard before they can-”

  “We’ve no need to chase the culprit.” Madame Truthteller cocked her head slightly to the side, lips thinning. “When you are already right here.” Her sightless gaze pinned him.

  The room held a perfect stillness for a half second, like the world had held its breath.

  Nadyar Velian jerked to the door, faster than any of them could move.

  He hadn’t noticed Vestra’s spiked wing hooking the edge of his cloak. He jerked to a halt a foot away from the door.

  Esharah seized the opening and slammed into Nadyar Velian’s mind. A brutal mental lunge, not one of the careful, precise manipulations she’d used as an inquisitor, but a desperate, clumsy attempt to hold him in place. She drove a mental spike deep as she could. It failed to find purchase, slipping aside as his thoughts zipped around in a maelstrom.

  “Damn them.”

  An image of the door.

  “They couldn’t know.”

  A flash of the goblet.

  “I’ll kill the bitch.”

  The window.

  Esharah’s mental lunge finally pinned that last thought. Enough to reveal Nadyar’s intent.

  But it was too late.

  Before any of them could stop him, Nadyar Velian twisted, a contortion impossible for any normal mortal. He slipped right out of the cloak as if made of water, free of Vestra’s grasp. Three minds pressed in on his, but he made no attempt at defense, all focus poured into escape. He shot towards the window like an arrow.

  In the time it took Nadyar Velian to cross the entire room and leap towards the window, Egor vis Golqan only managed to move a single fist. That punch met only air. But the air exploded.

  The room shook, a thunderous roar sounding. Glass shattered from the window, and the shutters around it burst into splinters. But the dezar’s leap was cut short. Nadyar Velian’s body flew back to slam into the opposite wall, cracking the plaster.

  Ears ringing, Esharah dove into Nadyar Velian’s stunned mind. An instant later, Lady Ashnya and Madame Truthteller joined. Three mind domains descended on one man’s rattled, beaten thoughts. All forcing on enough pain, enough will to crush even a fourth circle vis.

  Hissing curses flew from Nadyar Velian’s lips. He writhed, clutching at his skull from the assault.

  Vestra was there a second later, wing bones clamping around his arms and hauling him into a chair at the center of the room.

  “Slippery bastard.” Egor vis Golqan let out a low chuckle and rolled his shoulder. “First time I’ve landed a punch on that smirking face. It’s as satisfying as I’d hoped.”

  “This...this is...shit...” Nadyar Velian snarled out through gritted teeth. He didn’t look like a confident fourth circle vis anymore. More than a cornered rat. “I never poisoned the damn governor-”

  Eyes on his face, Esharah missed the movement in his tail. It lashed out like a serpent. Right towards her. Tip aimed straight at her heart.

  Vestra’s hand seized the tail in midair.

  “Your Sign,” Vestra’s lips curled in disgust as she gripped the appendage. “The symbol of your power. A slithering little tail that you use to steal cheese. And now to poison your governor. I always hated what a slimy, arrogant rat you were. Even then, I never took you for a traitor.” She gripped the base of his tail and yanked, drawing a pained howl.

  “Lies!” Nadyar Velian screamed. “It’s all damn lies!”

  “We’ll see.” Lady Ashnya rose from her seat behind the table and strode around it to face Nadyar Velian, disgust writ on her face. “You’re going to show us everything.”

  “You’ve no right!” Nadyar Velian still struggled fruitlessly, Vestra’s bone wings stronger bonds than any chain. “I’m a fourth circle vis! I’m a loyal servant of the governor! You can’t invade my mind!”

  “Who,” Lady Ashnya spoke softly while bringing her fingers to his temples, “do you think will stop us?”

  Nadyar Velian’s struggles ceased. His eyes widened. His breath quickened. Then slowed, became shallow and pained. The man was choking.

  “Your poison, witchflower essence, starts with closing the victim’s throat.” No longer making any attempt to hide the venom in her voice, Lady Ashnya’s lovely face twisted into hideous vengeance. “Then, the heart slows. Almost to the point of stopping.”

  “St...stop...” Nadyar Velian gasped. “Stop...”

  “Sweats,” Lady Ashnya continued, “dry mouth, nausea. Full body shaking.”

  Esharah watched as Nadyar Velian’s pupils dilated. Words failed him, even pleas stopping. There was no one for him to plead to. No advocate to bring his case before a judge. In this room, Octarnis’ treasured laws held no power. Only vis did.

  “I watched Skal go through every stage,” Lady Ashnya hissed, fingers flexing into claws at his temples. “I felt every second of it. I was helpless to stop it. So now, you’re going to feel everything you put him through. Next, paralysis set in. Then vomiting and convulsions. Delirium. Seizures. You’re going to feel everything he felt. And if you still refuse to confess, we’ll go through it again. And again, and again. We have all night.”

  Nadyar Velian screamed. It was an inhuman shriek. One that seemed to tear itself from a soul being rent in half. As Lady Ashnya continued her assault, Nadyar Velian’s body thrashed. The convulsions started. Vomit splattered onto the floor as he seized.

  Esharah kept her mental touch steady. There was too much suffering, too much terror in Nadyar Velian’s mind to extract a confession, too much to see anything clearly.

  “Stop!” Esharah shouted. “This isn’t proving anything.”

  Lady Ashnya’s eyes flashed to Esharah, and for a moment, Esharah felt her aura. Not a force of calm, but a cloud of rage and pain that threatened to drag her down into the same abyss Lady Ashnya was in.

  “This is about truth, Ashnya,” Madame Truthteller’s presence joined Esharah’s, “not revenge. It must be.” The older Mindspeaker’s words held no warmth. No comfort. Just the cold authority of an inquisitor’s truth.

  Lady Ashnya hissed, a primal sound, and reluctantly eased her grip on Nadyar Velian’s mind. Nadyar Velian collapsed back in the chair, gasping for breath, drenched in sweat and vomit. His face was a pale, terrified mask. His mental state was a wrecked landscape of pain and fear.

  “It would have been better,” Madame Truthteller’s voice held a chilling calm. “If you had simply confessed. It would have spared you that. We shall still have the truth.”

  “Damn you all!” Nadyar Velian shrieked. “Damn you, and damn the governor! I’d poison a hundred bastards before handing over Septentrion to that witch and the godsdamned voidtouched!”

  Silence fell. The accusation hung in the air, ugly and raw.

  “Witch?” Egor vis Golqan spoke for the first time, a deep rumble. “Who are you talking about?”

  “Lady Elesmara Genthus,” Esharah guessed.

  “Aye,” Nadyar bared bloody teeth, eyes hateful as they glared at her. “Her and her voidtouched spawn. Her and her godsdamned ‘research’.” The word was spit out like a curse. “Claiming to save the empire, when they’re dragging it into the void themselves. I told the governor to shut his ears to the witch’s lies, and he dismissed it.”

  “The voidspawn are coming whether you listen to Elesmara Genthus or not,” Esharah said coldly. Were people really so desperate to avoid the truth that they’d murder their own leaders to ignore the warnings?

  “Then let them devour Hellfrost!” Nadyar Velian spat a glob of blood right towards Esharah. It hadn’t even had chance to splatter on her dress before Vestra’s fist smashed into his mouth.

  “Stop, Vestra!” Esharah demanded.

  Vestra gave Nadyar a hate-filled look before stepping back, wings still holding him pinned to the chair.

  This time, Nadyar Velian’s bloody spit only landed on the floor, “Let them devour the criminals and barbarians and failures and traitors. All of you should be rotting in Hellfrost anyway. But you couldn’t be content to just stay and die out there. You had to drag the rest of Septentrion into your fight. And you’re trying to drag the rest of the empire in too.”

  “Whatever justifications you claim,” Madame Truthteller intoned, “you stand accused of plotting the murder of a governor. Do you deny such crimes.”

  “You’ve already decided my guilt,” Nadyar Velian sneered. “Get it over with.”

  “Not yet.” Lady Ashnya’s smile held no warmth. “First, you’re going to tell us everyone who was involved in this plot. Every detail of the scheme.”

  “Egor, Esharah,” Madame Truthteller signalled to them. “Your work here is done. We shall be more than enough to extract the truth from this traitor.” Her sightless face turned to Esharah, thin lips spreading in a corpse’s smile. “Excellent work, Esharah.”

  Egor grunted and opened the door, gesturing for Esharah to exit first. She had no time to be grateful for the chivalrous gesture. Her thoughts felt hollow. Her task was complete. She had done exactly what she’d been asked to do. She’d discovered the governor’s poisoner, and now the greatest mind domains in Septentrion would pry the remaining truth from Nadyar Velian’s mind.

  But as Nadyar Velian’s screams followed her out, she could not feel proud.

  * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

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