The Doktor's Spyglass

Chapter 20.1

"You must be quite the masochist," said Thijis, feeling more than a little concerned. "But I'll have to ask you to explain."

Kantaris crossed his long legs and leaned back in his chair. "We have a common interest. And a mutual acquaintance."

"Oh?"

"My sister was born Agniah Kantaris, but she married a lord named Hevrany."

Thijis groaned. "So that makes you—"

"The Margravine's uncle," explained Kantaris. "Mariel is...she is not what any of us expected. But she has done quite well for herself."

"So you've been, what, keeping an eye on me for her? Or do you report to that sniveling butler?" The words slipped out spitefully, though he wasn't quite certain why he should be angry at Mother. She'd offered him a job, he'd accepted. Not that there had been a world of choice in the matter.

"I'm sorry, Lord Kantaris," said Thijis. "I meant no offense. It's just that, as you have undoubtedly noticed, I have some reason to regret entering into your lady niece's employ."

"None taken," said the older man. "My niece and I do not commonly see eye to eye. If I can get her to listen to me once out of every three times, I consider myself successful. And make no apologies for Jantis. The man is a snake."

Thijis sat back in surprise. The moment Kantaris had mentioned the name Hevrany, he'd felt sure he'd fallen directly back into Mother's hands, likely to be called to account for fumbling what should have been a relatively straightforward investigation and walking out despite Jantis's attempt to detain him.

"To answer your question," continued Kantaris, "the answer is no. My interest in you is related to my niece's...exploits, but she does not run me." He put a surprising amount of emphasis on the last part. "You are aware, then, of Mariel's...shall we say, nocturnal activities?"

So he doesn't know everything, thought Thijis. Outing Mother's identity could be an incredibly bad idea, but Thijis got the sense that her uncle was already well aware of the Margravine's alter ego. He decided to roll the dice.

"If she's my Mother, does make you my great uncle?" He smiled thinly.

"It may surprise you to learn," said Kantaris, returning Thijis's smile grimly, "that the Margravine does not have events as well in hand as she pretends to."

"Not that I'd admit as much to her, but the thought had occurred to me," said Thijis. "Hiring me was a strange move for the matriarch of organized crime. Either she has another agenda, or she's desperate." Kantaris nodded once.

"And yet you took the job, knowing that either could mean..." He trailed off, pursing his lips and looking at Thijis with calculation. You know where I'm going with this, said the look.

"My quick and unfortunate demise?" Thijis finished. "Of course. I'm stupid, but I'm not stupid." He spread his hands. "What can I say? I needed the money." Money he had yet to spend. The Margravine's impressive line of credit was whole and untouched; Thijis had yet to collect a thin copper for his troubles. Which was his own damned fault, of course. He should have taken out a portion of his fee and set it aside before doing anything else.

"You're in this line of work for the money?" said Kantaris, deadpan. Thijis laughed.

"You've got me there," he admitted. "No, I'm in it for the dazzling social opportunities." The old man's face remained serious, and Thijis cleared his throat. After a moment, he tried again.

"A soldier fights. A baker bakes. I...do this." Kantaris seemed to understand, because he nodded.

" 'A calling is a need written on the soul,' " quoted Kantaris.

"Something like that," agreed Thijis. "Nabur had a way with words."

"That he did," said Kantaris. "Not that it saved him in the end."

Girath Nabur had been a High Prelate of the Church, before the Great Plague that decimated the city of Oridos and the Elimannen Empire. He'd been murdered under mysterious circumstances. His death had been one of the sparks that started the great race war. Appropriate, Thijis thought. What was Kantaris saying? Was Thijis fanning a flame of some kind?

"What am I doing here, Lord Kantaris?" asked Thijis. He was tired of conversation and wordplay, tired of circling around the unknown. "I would greatly appreciate some answers."

"Wouldn't we all," said the old man. "And I'd say you're entitled to them." Kantaris rose, straightening his antique suit and staring down at Thijis with those eyes that seemed to glare all of their own accord.

"If you'll follow me," he said, "I think we can find some answers together."

* * *

Thijis followed him out through the great hall and down the same staircase he'd ascended after waking. They passed the bank of cells where he'd slept, following the stone hallway deeper into the lower levels of the castle. He noticed that the floor began to slope downward, almost too gradually to notice, but he was certain by the time they reached the reinforced door at the end of it that they'd descended a good twenty feet or more.

"What did you mean when you said you'd been watching me?" asked Thijis, as Kantaris produced a large key and unlocked the door.

"Exactly what I said," said the old man, engaging what appeared to be a truly massive steel lock with a heavy click. "I've been watching you. Studying your movements. You've proven a useful agent, Mr. Thijis." The door swung open on well oiled hinges, revealing a landing and more stairs.

"Then I'll be sure to send you a bill," snapped Thijis. That the man was deliberately avoiding answering his questions was obvious, but the fact that he was so blithe about it had begun to chafe.

Kantaris took the stairs confidently, apparently unmoved by Thijis' annoyance. He moved with the quickness and agility of a man half his age. Irik, still sore and, if he were honest, a little disoriented from his fall and subsequent strange waking, had trouble keeping up with him as he flowed down the stairs. The staircase was built from the same dressed stone as the rest of the castle, but after two full turns about the spiral it became clear that they had descended into the stone of the mountain itself. Who had built this castle? Who would go to the trouble of delving such a dungeon?

He was out of breath when he caught up to Lord Kantaris, who had already unlocked an identical, heavy oaken door at the bottom of the staircase. He replaced the large key in his coat pocket and gestured Thijis inside. Irik passed him with a glare, unable to keep the growing impatience from his face. The only reason he wasn't sure this man had drawn him down here to murder him was because Kantaris had already had ample opportunity to do so. Or maybe he just likes his victims awake and conscious for the event.

Tolvaj's men had taken his pistol, and even his pocket knife was lost to the sea. More importantly, Kantaris looked more than able to handle himself, despite his age, and size like that mattered, regardless of how skilled your opponent might be. Thijis didn't like his chances if it came to a fight with this man. Then let your tongue do the work, as always, Thijis. Stop bitching and wasting time.

Just a short section for this Friday night, but enjoy it!  Look forward to more this weekend.