Duchess Kee, in a white evening gown with a scarlet satin sash, stood in the reception hall of the Castle Amun before the large rows of stained-glass windows that stretched the length of the wall. In their wide arches, the portraits of her ancestors were embedded in mosaic outlines. The night City glowed with soft lights through their faces. A fireplace burned in the hall, lit rather for comfort. Intentionally or not, this night the Duchess chose the arch with her father's face on it.
"Are you saying that you immediately sent out a signal and...?" there was a resounding and demanding voice across the room.
The Duchess sighed and calmly repeated:
"Yes, you already asked me, Cleric Sept, and I told you that we immediately sealed off access to the museum, much less to the central tower. Not a single soul entered there..."
"Except for those who have already entered," the man in the maroon cloak retorted sarcastically. His sharp features made him look like a bird, and for his piercing stare, in the streets and in the Palace he was nicknamed the Drill.
The Duchess swallowed the remark and continued nonchalantly:
"The tower was guarded according to regulations, including by the servants of the Cult."
"It would have been all right if you hadn't objected to giving the relic to the Temple, where it belongs," the Drill gnashed his teeth.
"It was an heirloom of my house, and we were proud that the University was blessed by the presence of such an artifact," Kee replied discreetly. "In the old days, much attention was paid to the study of runes..."
"The old days are over, and you know it as well as I do," Sept replied coldly. "Let's go over it again. Right after the explosion, you, ahem, got dressed and went to the University, where..."
"Where a quarantine had already been enforced, and all the students were in their rooms, according to the instructions of your..." the Duchess continued for him.
"...according to the instructions of Joseph the Third's B322 Act," the cultist reminded her. "Then all entrances and exits were sealed, guards were posted on the floors and stairwells, balloons with patrols were launched (the Drill read out notes from his notebook as he strode around the hall). And then you went to the clock tower," the cleric paused. "What for?"
"I received a report that there was an incident with a junior Magistrate technician," Kee replied.
"Junior technician? Are you serious? Your Grace personally inspects magisters' work?" Sept grinned.
"This is a special case, I knew the man... indirectly," replied the Duchess, feeling an acute reluctance to tell the cleric anything more.
"Come on, don't be shy!" Sept said insistently.
"He was related to my maid, and she asked for him," Kee's voice was steady, and she mentally praised the Heart.
"Okay, maybe so, and that was enough for you to personally ask the chief of police to sign release papers for the suspect?"
"It was his doll, he's old, and he can't continue repairing our castle clock without it. What does this have to do with your suspects?" the Duchess allowed herself to get a little angry.
"That is not for you to decide, Your Grace. Do you realize that I could take you away right now for obstructing the investigation and abetting terrorism?"
"What do you think you're doing, Sept!" Kee exclaimed, turning to the cleric and now really losing her temper.
"My job, Duchess, my job," the Drill retorted and continued to pace the hall. "Let me get this straight. Your maid asked for this man. Which maid was it?" the cultist banged on.
YOU ARE READING
Heart's tale
FantasyA long time ago, there was a planet on the surface of which a real living Heart was beating. Each of its beat gave life to many wonderful creatures, and humans were no exception. Once, during a mountain collapse, they became afraid that something m...
