Hard Bound, page 14
“He seems like such the gentleman and very worried about Orsa,” said Gaili, and she took a long drink from her wine glass.
“Yes, he does,” Fiona conceded with a nod. “But format has it he’s also been secretly meeting with Orsa over the last few months, as noted by her appointment book and the inn staff.”
Gaili gasped, wobbling the glass. “They told you that?”
“Curiosity and compliments often go hand in hand when gaining information. So they meet here a few times, but what do they talk about and why does Dorin feel he needs to act on Orsa’s behalf in secret?” Fiona couldn’t mention of course the notion Mac had about Dorin hiding something. “Perhaps it’s just a tryst, but it can’t be overlooked. Orsa was very adamant about telling Dorin her demand. No one else. And telling him she stole everything in the chests. Which, if that was the case, would mean she did both thefts. Plausible, but why come back and take items she could’ve taken at any time, like the watch and the bell?”
“The thefts do seem a little unrelated to each other,” Gaili said.
“And the only thing connecting them is the crowns. And then there’s Olea. She found the chests and she unlocked the chest.” Fiona left out that she didn’t want to take a reward for figuring out the cipher key. Understandable since it was essentially handed to her from Mac. “The timing throws her into suspicion.”
“And I guess by this way, Sofia is also under suspicion, for she seems to be recreating the Summer Crowns already.”
“Quite right, with presumably only having one day to study the summer version of the crowns.”
“But do you think she could be hiding them to look at them further?”
“Perhaps, but then why would she take the bell and the watch?”
“It doesn’t seem…well, the brightest thing to do.”
“I agree, but I think a short chat between you and her might cross her off the list.”
“Me?” said Gaili.
Fiona nodded. “You can speak her language of craft and that will soften her. Find out if she’s just guessing or has a source of hidden knowledge.”
“I can do that,” Gaili said slowly. “I am quite interested in her work, as it were.”
“Then it won’t even feel like false prying. That’s the best kind of questioning.” Fiona smiled. “And so that just leaves Clara, Dragomir, and Bardo. I’m going to talk to Dragomir and Bardo’s stewards tomorrow and see what I can learn. I feel that Clara is avoiding me, which throws her into question.” Although her entire personality throws her into question, she thought to herself.
Gaili said nothing, making her own notes and avoiding Fiona’s gaze.
Fiona sensed her demeanor shift but made no comment on it. “The Seasonal Crowns can do quite a bit of damage together and in the wrong hands, according to my information. The sooner we find them, the better for everyone in Copper. Let’s hope Henrietta uncovers something quickly to either tie Stoneguard to our case or set her loose. I should like to take attending the theater off my plate if I can.” She stared down at her paper covered in lines and names and circles. While it may look a mess to others, to Fiona it was a puzzle beautifully laid out just for her to pull apart and make sense of. She loved unraveling mysteries and satiating her curiosity. Sometimes the path led to tangents, but what was life without something to nibble on at the back of your mind?
Fiona looked up to comment on the nature of curiosity to Gaili but saw her friend’s eyes fluttering to sleep. She watched her for a moment, the exhausted faun already overworking herself, and to what end? If she had to prove to Gaili that Clara wasn’t worth her time, she would, but she got the sense the faun wouldn’t believe anything until she learned it herself. Sometimes the people we wanted most to be proud of us were the ones who were truly inconsequential to making yourself happy.
She got up quietly and put her writing kit back together, removing the evidence of their planning. Gently prodding Gaili who protested that she hadn’t fallen asleep, Fiona led her to her bedchambers and said good night. Making her way to her own, she tucked into the oversize bed in the guest wing for an uneasy sleep. Avenues stretched before her as she dreamed, and she found herself going down many of them as oncoming storms of rain, fire, debris, and frost pummeled her from above.
A shimmering-skinned Jacopo welcomed them with a nod the next morning: “You two are more prompt than half the workers in the Pavilion, except for old firecracker, of course,” he said quietly. “She’s already in if you’re looking to avoid her.”
Fiona raised an eyebrow. “Actually quite the opposite. If you don’t mind escorting Gaili to Sofia, I’ll go to Clara without preamble.” If she was quick about it, Clara could be cornered, Gaili would be separated, and she could ask questions as intrusively as she liked.
“Ah, that I can do.” He opened the door and motioned them inside, led them to Sofia’s chamber, knocked, and showed Gaili in.
Fiona slipped away to Clara’s door. She listened through gently to hear quiet humming. Without knocking, she opened it. “Clara, do you have a moment?”
Startled, the shimmering gold-skinned faun dropped her quill, splotching her writing with ink. She stood up quickly, moving papers and ink together. “It’s Keeper Clara, mind you. And you should knock before you enter a Seven’s office. We deal with highly sensitive information that isn’t to be seen by commoners.”
Fiona sauntered in, closing the door behind her. She glanced at the documents Clara was trying to shuffle into order, looking for anything familiar, but nothing stood out. “Yes, one can’t be too careful about what they leave in their office apparently as well. It seems security is a bit lacking, what with the thefts and all.”
Clara shoved the papers into her desk drawer and closed it with a slam, placed the quill in its stopper, and turned to Fiona with an amount of contained disdain that impressed the investigator. “It’s not security that’s lacking. It’s the people who have been hired to do it. Where is Jacopo?”
“He’s escorting Gaili to Keeper Sofia so they can chat. I thought it was best to divide and conquer this morning.”
“And you couldn’t knock?”
“Apologies, it was a momentary lapse in judgment.” Fiona feigned innocence. “I thought to speak to you while you were available. You’ve been so busy.”
Clara frowned and then ran a hand across her hair, smoothing it away from her horns. “Well, I have a moment now, should you like to update me on how the case is going against Orsa.”
“The case to find the missing items is moving forward,” she said, subtly correcting her. “Did you suspect Orsa for a thief when you hired her?” Fiona sat down in front of Clara and watched the faun closely.
“Of course not, don’t be ridiculous,” Clara said. “She seemed nice, if a bit quiet. But now I suspect that was too quiet, if you know what I mean.” She leaned forward. “She never really told anyone about herself or her past. Have you talked with her yet?”
“Yes, yesterday actually,” Fiona said, looking to see if Clara would comment about her visit. When the faun said nothing, Fiona prompted, “She may be quiet, but her work history was adequate enough to hire her?”
“Yes, yes, it was all in order. I do know how to hire for something as benign as a steward,” Clara said and pursed her lips.
“She was a good worker with a good working past, but when you hired her, you didn’t bring her on as your personal steward even though yours had left. Why is that?”
Clara shrugged. “I didn’t need one. The stewards share duties for all of us.”
“But everyone else seems to have a primary. You don’t have one? Who keeps your books in order, makes your appointments, manages your letters, that sort of thing?” Orsa’s books had been clear in that she worked for Dorin and Clara, managing them both. Why was Clara pretending she wasn’t?
“Are there any updates to actually report to me instead of wasting my time?”
“None pressing.” It was odd. She would’ve expected the knowledge that Orsa confessed to come from Clara. Why had she not told anyone of her visit and results? Did she press Orsa to confess without knowing if she would follow through? Orsa told her to tell Dorin specifically, not Clara. Fiona had assumed it’s because Clara already knew and secondarily because of Dorin and Orsa’s connection.
Clara picked up the watch hanging from the belt of her dress, but before she could say something about the time, Fiona continued. “Were you interested in the crowns?” She directly left out their type. She didn’t want to let loose the only information it seemed the rest of the Seven didn’t have just yet.
“I have no interest in the crowns, the bell, or any of that other nonsense. Think for one moment, Investigator: Why would I steal my own invention?” Clara raised an eyebrow.
“The journals must’ve held some valuable information that even in your field of study might have been interesting,” Fiona pressed, thinking of the hidden volumes under Clara’s desk. “And now you may never retrieve it if whoever stole the items doesn’t return them. I believe for everyone it’s an insurmountable loss of history and information.”
Clara’s eyes narrowed. “Then they aren’t as forward thinking as I am. There will be other breakthroughs. Just because its Olea’s discovery doesn’t mean the rest of us won’t make some of our own.” She began gathering her things. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I really must be going. Should you have any other questions, don’t bother coming to me with them.” She smiled, but it was clearly mocking.
“Just one more. Orsa’s bracelet? Olea said you still had it, and I wanted to examine it.”
Clara furrowed her brow. “Olea is wrong. I don’t have the trifling thing. I don’t need a reminder of what Orsa did dangling around.”
“Were you frightfully upset at Orsa betraying you, knowing that you hired her?”
Clara’s head snapped up. “Betray me? How could she betray me?”
Hello, that was a reaction. “By stealing from the Seven, of course. It reflects back on you, does it not? As if you directed her in some way. Perhaps it would be that dotted link between you two that would make you so upset you’d do anything to get the whole debacle over with so you could move on from it.”
The faun leaned in, staring at Fiona, unflinching. “Listen to me. I’ll talk slowly so you understand. I don’t care about Orsa. She stole from us, and she’s been captured. That’s all that matters. The wardens will find the missing items. I don’t need to expend my energy over someone so far beneath me.”
The faun’s condescension and attitude broke what little reserve Fiona had. “How can you deny—You went to the prison tower yesterday and yelled at Orsa.” Fiona glared at Clara.
“I most certainly did not.” Clara waved her away, huffing. “How dare you! Spread your false, insidious rumors about someone else. I have no attachment to Orsa or this case. There’s no reason for me to care.” Clara pointed to the door. “Get out of my office this instant. I don’t care what Dorin says, you’re a waste of my time.” She marched to the door and flung it open.
Fiona bit back a retort. Why would Clara deny what could be easily found out? What was she missing? She took a breath and smiled wide to put Clara off with politeness. “Of course. Thank you for your time.” She couldn’t directly accuse one of the Seven without substantial proof. She needed to figure out what Clara’s game was, pretending not to have visited Orsa or coercing her to confess. Where could she turn to find more clues? Could she search the Keeper’s home? That would be tricky—people like her had scores of servants. Chewing on what to do next, she decided to at least work on another angle if only to whittle down her list.
Without a backward glance, Fiona took her leave and went to the administrator rooms directly behind Dragomir and Bardo’s offices, hoping to cross off two tasks at once. She knocked on the front wall in between. A well-dressed jade-winged fairy and wine-skinned, black-haired centaur looked up at her as she came in between their steward rooms. Though they were separate, as soon as she spoke of her desire to ask questions about the two Seven members, they both came to the hallway.
“I am happy to help you, Investigator,” the centaur said. “I have a certain amount of skill others lack that may give you the answers you seek.” They pushed back the edge of their dark cape dramatically and threw a glance at the fairy that was clearly meant to make sure the insult targeted directly.
“I don’t boast of being able to look up information and read words as if it was a challenge, as some of my colleagues do. But I’m happy to answer your questions and give you the correct information.” The fairy fluttered to the other side of Fiona.
The intense light glimmering off her jade wings made Fiona wince. She forgot for a moment the fae auras until they all but blinded her. When she opened her eyes, she was surprised to be surrounded so quickly and in between the two clearly tenuous coworkers. Taking a step back into the wall, Fiona said, “That is very kind of both of you. I simply had some questions. I’m sure you’ve been asked—”
“Yes, yes, about where Keeper Bardo went.” The fairy rolled her eyes. “I’ve told the other members and I’ll tell you: Bardo’s datebook is booked for the next two weeks. He’s away in another page and should only be reached in case of emergencies. I’m more than his personal assistant, you know.”
“As if you do any more than others,” the centaur muttered.
“I do more than you. You may have the back half of a horse, but you have the front half of an a—”
“Wait, wait just a minute please.” Fiona broke in, waving her hands. While her experience with faekin was limited, she knew as much as she needed about working with someone you couldn’t stand. “Perhaps I can just look at the appointment books myself. Then you could each go back to doing your job. I know it’s quite a bit of work to support all the Seven and their duties.”
The centaur sniffed, turning around. “I only support Keeper Dragomir. The others each have their own as well.”
“And I only support Keeper Bardo. Though I’m sure I could do more for the others if needed.” She flew away to her desk.
“How many stewards are there in total?”
“Five,” the fairy answered, returning and handing Fiona a diary. “Keeper Cascade won’t hire one after the first one quit on her.”
“And poor Orsa worked for Keeper Dorin,” the centaur said. “I’ll suppose he’ll have to hire someone else now.”
“And Keeper Clara has none? Do you do any work for her?” She suspected Orsa and Clara were very good at hiding their arrangement.
They both shook their heads, though the centaur made a disgruntled face. He also handed Fiona a diary and nodded. “I’m meticulous in my details, unlike some.”
Fiona tuned out the fairy’s reply as she opened the diaries to see if there was any information to glean. The next couple of weeks were empty for Dragomir starting with the autumn equinox when the items had been stolen. Appointments picked back up after the month ended. She flipped back as far as she could, ignoring dates with people she didn’t recognize and noting location names like a vacation to Empearal, in the page of air, and the Great Stairs in Kerus, Dodger’s page.
She cross-referenced the dates with Bardo’s calendar to see that he too was blocked for almost the same times, but it was always empty. Odd that they would match up. Flipping to today’s date, a blocked stretch of time with the initials SD starting the day of the autumn equinox till the end of the month were penciled in.
“What is this SD?” Fiona asked.
“The Shimmering Depths.” The fairy peered over, pointing. “That’s when Bardo was supposed to head off for a day study to the Depths. But the scheduling of the unveiling scuttled that trip.”
“And it was supposed to be only a day long?”
“Yes. After trips like that to study some part of an elemental page, he usually dives into his findings for a few days after. He does not like to be disturbed.”
“Got it. So Keeper Bardo is either in the Shimmering Depths or diving into his findings currently.”
“Yes, yes,” the fairy said dismissively. “I’ve said this before. It’s not my fault some people can’t find their scholars.”
“I don’t need to find her. She’s not on trial here,” the centaur said, visibly pouting.
Fiona exhaled, exhausted by the two, and handed them the diaries back. She smiled and moved away quickly, saying, “Thank you both ever so much. You’ve helped me clear up things tremendously.”
“We did?” the centaur said.
“They did?” the fairy said.
Fiona nodded and turned, making her way back down the corridor, hoping the two would go back to their offices instead of standing there arguing. When she didn’t hear any bickering behind her, she gave a quick glance and then sighed with relief.
She tapped on Bardo’s office door and then let herself in. It was clean and airy with a larger skylight than most of the other offices. A gauzy hammock hung above a desk, and shelves lined the wall with scrolls and books. Blueprints of a domed cathedral were framed and hung in a place of honor in the center.
Going through his desk, his shelves and his work, Fiona could tell Bardo was clearly a scholar of mathematics and architecture. He had more blueprints and sketches than Fiona could make heads or tails of, as well as treatises on bookkeeping, mathematical puzzles, and the like. A variety of books on different historical eras of Copper—the early Circle of Seasons, the hag eradication, subsequent plague—and other tomes about the Book were organized haphazardly on a shelf. Fiona sorted through looking for any new information, but all she found of interest was a variety of mementos nestled among the books: stationery from various extremely upscale inns around the Book, a flimsy wooden fan, and a vial of thin, wisping air. The last one surprised her. This sort of trinket only came from Mistral, a favorite among skimmers who visited Empearal but only during the border retreat where the emperalis air elementals let folks in once a year.
She did the same with Dragomir’s office. It was surprisingly similar in a way, clean and airy, although there was a large branch and azure flower candelabra instead of a skylight. There was less furniture here, making the room more spacious. She supposed that made sense for a centaur to want room to move about.
