Evastany, Page 5

Miss Faronni Nallay lives in a poorer part of the town. Her tiny, shabby little house is one of a row of tiny, shabby little houses, most of them ill-kept and unloved. I imagine they usually prove to be rather temporary residences.

  Miss Nallay’s house is a little better maintained than some, and the pots of various growing-things around the door speak well of her. We saw nothing amiss when we arrived, but having knocked upon the door some three or four times, waiting a minute or two in between, we were soon obliged to conclude that she was not at home.

  Tren immediately conducted a speedy survey of her neighbours, most of whom were found to be in residence. The news was bad: no one had seen her in at least a week.

  ‘Time to break in,’ Tren decided, and found this task immediately achievable, for a door at the back was unlocked. In we went.

  I do not know what I expected to see: a mess, perhaps? The kind that suggests somebody was forcibly removed from the house, protesting all the way? We saw nothing of the kind. Miss Nallay’s house was scrupulously neat inside, and all that was obviously missing was a selection of clothes, for her wardrobe was almost empty.

  ‘So she left willingly,’ Tren observed. ‘But was she on her way to us, and intercepted somewhere en route? Or did whoever took her give her time to pack, like Susa?’

  No way to tell. I abandoned her drab little bedchamber quite quickly, for it had nothing else to tell us.

  Downstairs, I conducted a more thorough search of her possessions. I found my own letter to her, inviting her to take up a position with our new bureau. I glanced over it so perfunctorily, it took me a moment to realise that it was not my letter, or not quite. The wording was the same, as far as I remembered, and that was my signature at the bottom. But I had invited her to present herself at our office in Glour City, and given the address.

  This letter made no mention of it. It merely stated — in my own handwriting! — that someone would arrive to collect her, and that she should make herself ready to travel.

  I handed this gem off to Tren with a disgusted flourish. A filthy trick. ‘Someone has made off with two out of three of our students,’ I said to him. ‘And as if that were not offensive enough, they have been making free with my handwriting, my signature and even my visage in order to accomplish it!’

  ‘The insult is insupportable,’ Tren agreed, perusing the letter briefly. ‘I have to say, though, as kidnappings go these are fairly low-key. No forcible abductions, no ransom notes, no apparent violence.’

  ‘All good things,’ I had to agree. ‘But the fact remains that Susa has been taken away somewhere unspecified, by someone who had no right to do so, and Faronni Nallay has been deceived.’

  I paused to think, largely fruitlessly. I feel sure, even as I write, that some degree of explanation ought to be obvious. Here we have a pattern emerging: two untrained partial Lokants taken away, most likely to a Library off-world. Both were prospective students at my new school, and shortly due to receive training. Both appear to have gone along more or less willingly, though whether they had any true understanding of where they were going remains in doubt.

  It would not be the first time that Lokants have made use of partials from our world. Krays (a tasteless, troublesome individual whose untimely demise is regretted by nobody) has done so before, though the experience did not turn out very well for the people in question.

  It is this that troubles me. It ought to be a good thing, if Lokants are disposed to take an interest in us. They are by far the best qualified to teach us; I am aware how much hubris there is in my presuming to set up a school, considering that I am by no means an expert in these arts myself. My grasp of domination is excellent, though I do not think I qualify as fully trained in the business. I can translocate. But Gio is far better equipped to teach such arts than I, and I am entirely lacking in some other Lokant powers — I cannot heal or mend at all.

  If I could believe that they simply propose to do a better job of teaching my students than I can, I would have no objection to their interference. But the chances of that are slim. I am persuaded that no Lokant ever did anything for the benefit of others. If they are teaching my students then they are also disposed to use them for something, and it is unlikely to prove to be much to the benefit of Susa or Faronni.

  I took the precaution of bringing Bartel along with us, as well as Rikbeek, who goes everywhere with me. This second tracking expedition ended in the same way as the first. We gave Bart some of Miss Nallay’s clothing, and he duly followed her scent out into the street. Her trail persisted just around the corner and… then it vanished.

  We spent the remaining hours consulting once again with her neighbours, in hopes that she might have mentioned something — anything — that could help us. I did not hold out much hope, for it does not appear that my impersonator communicated with her at all except by the false letter.

  We uncovered nothing new, nothing of note, nothing helpful. Miss Faronni Nallay has vanished into the wind, like Susa, and we cannot follow.

  I put down my pen with a view to turning in for the night, for we propose to leave early tomorrow. But Tren asked something pertinent and I feel compelled to note it down.

  We had identified three prospective students, but only two of them have been taken. My first thought upon considering this fact was mild panic; what if we return to find that Heliandor has likewise disappeared?

  ‘Unlikely,’ Tren argued. ‘Clearly, whoever is responsible is well-informed as to our doings. They cannot be unaware of Heliandor’s existence, and I can think of no sensible reason why they would have taken Susa and Faronni already and simply been late to claim Heliandor. I think that the link between Susa and Faronni must be more complex than we imagine.’

  ‘It is not merely that they are partials,’ I agreed. ‘Considering the fact that I, too, have failed to disappear into thin air, we can conclude that more is required.’

  Tren looked worried by this reflection, and I regretted bringing it up. ‘Let’s hope that whatever it is about Susa and Faronni that qualifies them for special treatment is something you lack.’

  ‘Apparently it is something Heliandor lacks. But what? The frustrating thing is, we know nothing at all about Faronni. Only basic, largely useless facts.’ Nobody we had spoken to seemed to know much about her, either. She was a withdrawn type of person, not much given to socialising, and had no apparent friends in her neighbourhood. And since we have no idea where she works, if anywhere in particular, it will be difficult to find out more about her.

  It is a place to start, however. We agreed to learn more about Faronni, by whatever means possible.

  ‘Considering that there are now two missing students,’ I added, ‘It stands to reason that there might be more abductees, or potential ones.’

  ‘Sending letters,’ agreed Tren. ‘To us.’

  ‘Ah. Yes.’ As minimal an exchange as this last part was, I caught Tren’s drift at once.

  Who has been intercepting our post, and how?

  22 IV

  I have learned that Ori and Gio are formidably devious.

  I have also learned that Ori has a flair for espionage, and has had a fancy to try his hand at it for some time. I discovered these things because when Tren and I returned to Glour City and revealed our findings, the two of them threw themselves into the problem with an enthusiasm I can only describe as Gusto (believe me, the capital letter is more than justified).

  ‘Right, so,’ said Ori, stretching out in his chair in my favourite parlour and putting his feet on my favourite footstool, ‘There are a few places it would be possible to intercept post. We can assume, firstly, that this is happening from our end, not the sender’s, as the interference appears to be designed to discover the identities of the latter. So, it is probably happening somewhere in between Glour City’s main sorting office and the letterbox at Headquarters.’

  ‘Big office?’ asked Gio.

  ‘I have never thought about it,’ I replied.

  ‘Of course it is
,’ said Tren. ‘Big city, big sorting office.’

  ‘It would be difficult to find and intercept two particular letters in a sorting office like that,’ Gio suggested. ‘If they have no idea where the letters are coming from.’

  Ori agreed. ‘So they are probably getting hold of them after they leave the sorting office. It might be a question of swiping them off the post carrier en route, or maybe it’s been as simple as taking them out of our letterbox before we can get to them. As for the other problem: how are you sending letters?’

  He was looking at me, which left me in some little difficulty. ‘Um,’ I said, and looked at Tren for help.

  I had to suffer the indignity of being laughed at in response. ‘Eva never thinks of simple practicalities,’ Tren said, with a wink at me to show that he was not being malicious. ‘It is for others to deal with dull matters like how to get a letter out.’

  ‘I have other things to think about,’ I said, and hoped I did not sound as defensive as I feared.

  ‘What do you do with your letters, Eva?’ said Ori, in a patient tone I found deplorable.

  ‘I sign and seal them and leave them on my desk.’

  Tren put in, ‘Adonia probably takes them and posts them.’

  ‘In theory then, anybody could take them off your desk, alter them and put them back before Adonia finds them?’

  I nodded at Ori. ‘In theory.’

  ‘Supposing, of course, that it is not Adonia herself,’ he added.

  I was horrified. ‘No, I am sure not. I have known her since she was a child. She’s a former student of mine. I invited her mother to my wedding!’

  ‘Which wedding?’ put in Tren in a whisper.

  ‘The previous one.’

  ‘The… cancelled, previous one?’ Tren looked faintly nervous, as though he seriously imagined I might have been married and widowed before and somehow contrived to conceal the fact from him.

  ‘The cancelled one,’ I said, heroically resisting the impulse to roll my eyes.

  Tren looked relieved.

  Ori eyed me with suspicion, apparently unconvinced by my staunch faith in Adonia. ‘Do not doubt me, Ori,’ I told him sternly. ‘It is appallingly rude.’

  ‘Fine, fine,’ he said ungraciously. ‘For the present, we will assume Adonia’s innocence and look elsewhere for our culprit.’

  ‘Do we have any security at headquarters at all?’ said Gio.

  ‘I have no idea,’ said I frostily.

  He smiled faintly in response. ‘I will attend to that, if you will permit.’

  ‘Feel free.’

  ‘Not yet,’ said Ori. ‘We can use this to draw out our kidnapper.’

  And Ori paused. His only possible motive in doing so was to heighten the suspense, so I had no qualms in bending my most ferocious glower upon him until he started talking again.

  ‘This is a complicated scheme,’ said he. ‘I see two possible motives for it. One: to ensure that people like Miss Nallay go along quietly. A person who does not realise they are being kidnapped is much easier to make off with, no? And two: to conceal the Lokant’s identity, and if possible their activities, from people like us who might object. If they can throw suspicion on you in the process, all the better.

  ‘So, I imagine a few things likely. One, we may not receive any more letters from prospective students. They will mysteriously go astray, because how can we interfere in the removal of more of our students if we are not even informed of their existence? In fact, Eva, I would not be surprised if that has already occurred. You did wonder why you received so few letters. Miss Nallay’s was probably swiped a bit late, forcing our kidnapper to arrange an alternative way to intercept her.’

  A good point indeed.

  ‘Two: if we assume that all letters addressed to headquarters are being taken before we get anywhere near them, this is potentially of great benefit to us. We begin by pretending that we have no idea it is happening at all. Your ladyship can help this process along by making a deal of noise in public about your lack of applicants and your great disappointment in the failure of your scheme.

  ‘Meanwhile, we will set up a fake applicant. Have a letter ostensibly from that person sent to headquarters in the regular post. See what happens.’

  ‘You mean,’ said I, ‘that we will try to have one of ourselves kidnapped.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Ori beamed upon all three of us.

  Tren gave a slight cough. ‘Not that I wish to pour scorn upon an excellent plan, Ori, but do you not think that might be a trifle dangerous?’

  ‘Not at all. I suggest we employ Gio. He can camouflage his appearance from whoever shows up, in case it turns out to be someone he knows — make them see a different person in his place. And he can translocate out of wherever it is he’s taken to, if he finds himself in danger. They are expecting untrained partials, remember, not a fully-trained Lokant.’

  I looked at Gio to discover how he felt about Ori’s cavalier attitude to his safety. I was surprised by it myself, but I was prepared to put it down to enthusiasm for the thrilling adventure.

  Gio looked slightly nonplussed, but his confidence in his own abilities appeared to equal his lover’s, for he shrugged and agreed. ‘It is a sound enough plan.’

  That won him Ori’s full approval, which appeared to gratify him more than enough to justify his being used as bait in a mission of, possibly, some danger.

  ‘If you should happen to be successfully kidnapped,’ I told Gio, ‘and you should happen to find yourself left in company with Susa and Faronni, please do bring them back with you.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Gio.

  ‘But no,’ objected Ori. ‘That will give the game away! They will realise at once that we have found them out, and our advantage is lost.’

  I said, ‘They will realise that anyway, as soon as they find Gio missing. Or whoever he is pretending to be.’

  ‘Gio won’t come back right away,’ Ori argued. ‘Or rather, he will come back long enough to collect me, then return and go on pretending to be a student.’

  Gio’s brows went up at that, though whether it was the former or the latter part of Ori’s plan that disconcerted him I could not tell. ‘Leaving you to do what?’ he demanded.

  ‘Snoop.’

  ‘And how will you get out, if trouble happens?’

  Ori shrugged. ‘I am not helpless. I’m a draykon. I can take care of myself.’

  There appeared to be a severe disagreement pending, so I judged it best to intervene. ‘How about this. We go along with Ori’s plan, save for one modification: we are going to get all four of us kidnapped. We will do a better job of investigating the problems together, and nobody ends up left to the practice of high espionage alone.’

  ‘Absolutely not,’ said Tren. The fierce frown he directed at me expressed his objection clearly enough: he disliked the notion of my putting myself in any danger.

  Endearing as was his concern, I dismissed it.

  Other objections tended towards the practical, all of which I was able to argue away. ‘Gio and I will manipulate the perceptions of our kidnapper, in order to escape notice. Ori, you may shapeshift into any shape you please, no? I dare say you can turn your hair white for a time. And Tren has masqueraded as a Lokant before, with brilliant success. It will be perfectly possible to arrange for all four of us to be absconded with.’

  ‘The one problem,’ said Ori, ‘is that Heliandor has been ignored. You are right that there’s more to their choice of target than Lokant heritage alone. We’ll have to figure out what else they want, first, in order to be sure of getting ourselves onto their shopping list.’

  ‘In which case,’ I said with a brilliant smile for Ori, ‘I charge you to do what you do best: go gather information.’

  ‘Yes, my lady!’ Ori collected up Gio, and departed forthwith to conduct research.

  ‘I love academics,’ I said to Tren. ‘They never tire of digging for facts.’

  ‘Good memories, too,’ he agreed.

&
nbsp; ‘And so biddable.’ I made a mental note to do something nice for Ori and Gio sometime soon.

  22 IV

  Allow me to introduce you to the new me!

  My new persona is a few years younger (because who would not be, given the option?). She is female. I mean, I could masquerade as a man if I wanted to; I need change nothing about my own appearance, merely my audience’s perception of it. I could be green if I wanted to, with three horns, six eyes and a tail. I could be invisible.

  But why would I choose to pass myself off as a man? Men are so dull. No gowns, no bosom, little jewellery and sadly minimal eyelashes. What would I be expected to do with myself? I’d rather be green and betailed.

  I have chosen a name! I considered such delights as Petrovanka Lorianassan and Miss Arabellina De Varsenay, but I suppose they are a little too flamboyant. Do they sound convincingly like real people, to you?

  No. They don’t to me either.

  I regret this excessively, for I feel that Miss De Varsenay would be more than passingly fond of her parasol, and I have always been attracted to those. However, one must be sensible. I have settled upon Edwora Selana Crompet. She shall be a Summoner like me, as I see no reason why I should resign all claim to some of my best abilities just because I am pretending to be somebody else.

  I place my character in Orstwych — some town just over the border will do. I do not wish to have to travel too far. I will ask Adonia to fix upon a suitable address.

  … Or perhaps I shall not. A terrible thought has just occurred to me. What if she is the person who has tampered with our post! What if my confidence is misplaced and I am being made a sad dupe? I know I was severe upon Ori for doubting me, but it happens that I come to doubt myself.

  It is an activity I have rarely indulged in before, and I can tell you, I do not find it an enjoyable experience. In fact it is so particularly unpleasant, I cannot understand why anybody ever bothers with it at all.

  I do not see any occasion to mention to Ori that this has come to pass, for he would no doubt imagine himself free to be deplorably smug about it. But if I happen to refrain from confiding in Adonia about this new plan, just in case, I do not see that anybody shall be inconvenienced by it.