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  Balfruss’s smile vanished. “The war left terrible scars on his people. The wounds of his body have been healed, but I’m not sure his mind will ever recover. We’ll do what we can to help him.”

  Tianne drifted away into the warm, comfortable darkness. When next she woke the first thing she smelled was fresh bread. Next to the bed someone had left a plate of warm bread, cold chicken and some greens. She tucked into it with relish, smearing fresh, creamy butter onto the bread. She overheard voices coming from the room next door as someone had left the door slightly ajar. Tianne was certain she wasn’t supposed to listen but she couldn’t help overhearing. The Grey Council were having a heated conversation.

  “It must be done,” Garvey was insisting. No one except the other members of the Grey Council ever stood up to him. Tianne thought the other teachers were more than a little afraid of him. “You both know it will happen,” Garvey was saying.

  “Then we have failed,” said Balfruss. “Despite everything we’ve accomplished in the last ten years. It has all been for nothing.”

  “All is not lost. There’s still time,” said Eloise, her gentle voice calming them both. “If we start tomorrow and do it gradually, there’s still a chance.”

  The three of them were quiet for a minute and Tianne thought the conversation was over. She focused on eating and kept her eyes on the food in case someone came to check on her. Eventually Balfruss spoke again and Tianne was so surprised by his tone of voice that her fork paused halfway to her mouth.

  He was afraid.

  “Are you sure we have to do this?”

  Even Garvey’s laugh was a harsh, cynical thing. “I’m sorry, my old friend, I’m not mocking you. You know there is no other way.” Balfruss said something but it was muffled and Garvey laughed again. “I wish I had your optimism. People will need it in the days ahead. And you, Eloise, dear heart. You are the soul of this place. The Red Tower would not exist today if you had not rebuilt it.”

  “You both understand what we may have to do?” asked Eloise.

  Garvey’s sigh seemed to go on for a long time. “I do. I’m ready.”

  “Then may Elwei bless us and keep us safe,” said Balfruss.

  “There’s no need to be so dramatic,” scoffed Garvey. He didn’t sound worried but the other two did. After all they had accomplished, what could possibly scare them?

  Tianne heard the shuffling of feet and quickly lay back down and closed her eyes. She heard someone approaching and feigned waking up and yawning. When she opened her eyes she found Garvey staring at her from across the room. His unwavering stare was unnerving and she felt her mouth go dry. Without saying a word he turned and stomped away down the corridor.

  “Are you feeling any better?” asked Balfruss, coming into the room.

  “Much better, thank you,” she babbled, clutching the blanket to her chest. It was difficult to talk to him without feeling as if her tongue filled her entire mouth.

  “I wondered if you wouldn’t mind doing me a favour,” he asked with a smile that made her stomach churn.

  “Anything for you,” she blurted out, then looked away to hide her embarrassment.

  If Balfruss noticed her blush he didn’t say anything. “There’s a new student joining us tomorrow. Would you look after her? Maybe you could show her around and help her settle in. Would you do that?”

  “I’d be happy to,” she managed, proud for almost sounding normal.

  “Thank you, Tianne.”

  It was only when she was halfway back to the dormitory that she wondered what was so special about the new student. Why had Balfruss taken a personal interest in her?

  It wasn’t yet dawn and already the day was proving to be one that Tianne wouldn’t forget for a long time.

  CHAPTER 3

  Tammy never felt more at home than when she was walking the familiar corridors of Unity Hall. As a Guardian of the Peace, her work over the last ten years had taken her across the world and every time she came back to Perizzi, the capital of Yerskania, it seemed different. Each small change in the city made it feel less welcoming. At least here, in the headquarters of the Guardians, time appeared to be standing still as the decor never changed. It was never updated to suit a change in fashion. The heavy wooden furniture was stained with black lacquer that seemed to absorb the light, while the polished wooden floors were the colour of freshly spilled blood. Black and red dominated every room and every corridor. The building was a solid and immovable rock in the river of time.

  On her way to the Old Man’s office she passed many Guardians, all of them dressed in the famous jackets that were also black and red. Tammy still owned one, but she’d not worn her uniform for a long time. It was a lot easier to blend in if they didn’t know why she was there ahead of time.

  Although Guardians were predominantly responsible for investigating crimes in Yerskania, their reputation was such that other nations often sent requests for assistance with difficult or unusual cases. In the course of her work Tammy had travelled all over the west, from Shael to Zecorria, Morrinow and even once to Drassia. It had been difficult and often exhausting work but, sadly, coming back to Yerskania didn’t feel like a homecoming. A child of two nations, Seveldrom and Yerskania, she’d grown up feeling as if she belonged to both and yet to neither. Perhaps that was why she felt most comfortable on the road.

  The Khevassar, known simply to many as the Old Man, was the head of the Guardians. As she stepped into his outer office she received an unpleasant surprise. Instead of seeing Rummpoe, the Old Man’s curmudgeonly secretary, a young woman with a pinched faced was sitting behind his desk. The rest of the room looked exactly the same as before. The walls were covered, floor to ceiling, with shelves that were filled with hundreds of identical red leather journals. They were the handwritten account of all crimes in the city going back decades, penned by the Old Man. A history of blood and violence. As their leader she guessed he must have seen it all. She wondered if anything ever surprised him these days, or was it all cyclical?

  Two novices sat waiting for their first interview with the Khevassar and they looked nervous. They had every right to be. It was all part of the traditional initiation every Guardian had to endure. While investigating crimes they had to delve into the private lives of victims and their families. They were required to ask the most personal questions in pursuit of justice, but first they had to understand themselves and be able to accept who and what they were.

  Tammy still remembered her interview with the Old Man and the cutting remarks he’d made. Everything had been laid bare. It was as if he’d been able to see inside her mind.

  As Tammy approached Rummpoe’s desk, the young woman looked up, clearly annoyed at the interruption.

  “Yes?” she asked.

  “Where’s Rummpoe?” asked Tammy.

  “I am Rummpoe,” said the secretary, rolling her eyes. Unimpressed, Tammy crossed her arms and waited, looming over the desk. When the young woman realised she wasn’t going to go away her arrogance receded a little. “He was my great-grandfather. I took over the job and the name, in honour of him.”

  “I’m here to see the Old Man.”

  Rummpoe shook her head. “First, as you well know, he is to be referred to only as the Khevassar. Second, you can’t just turn up whenever you like and ask to see him. That’s not how it works.”

  “That’s exactly how it works,” said the Old Man standing in his office doorway. Tammy watched as a teary-eyed novice scuttled out of the waiting room. No doubt the novice had been forced to come face to face with some unsettling truths about himself. Her interview had been equally brutal, although she’d managed not to cry in his presence. That had come later.

  “Sir, there are protocols to follow,” Rummpoe began to argue. “I thought—”

  “That was your mistake,” snapped the Old Man. “You are here to follow my orders. Disobey me again and I’ll demote you to the Watch. You’ll be scraping up drunks on the docks and be knee deep in shit and
vomit every night for the rest of your life. Is that clear?”

  Rummpoe had the good grace to look suitably ashamed. She kept her eyes on her desk and muttered something under her breath.

  “Speak up. I’m going a bit deaf in my old age,” said the Old Man, cupping a hand to the side of his head.

  “I said, yes Sir, I understand.”

  “Your grandfather used to tell me you were clever. Start acting like it.”

  Tammy followed the Old Man into his office and closed the door behind her. He sat down behind his desk and heaved a long sigh. “Why did he have to go and die on me, the old fool?”

  Rummpoe and the Khevassar must have been friends for decades. Tammy had always found him irritating but the Old Man was clearly missing him.

  He’d never been a big man, but the Khevassar looked smaller and more frail than she remembered. Most of his hair was gone and his uniform seemed ill-fitting, as if he’d borrowed it from someone larger. His normally steady hands trembled and even his sharp blue eyes had lost some of their sparkle. Now they were rheumy and turning yellow. In the past he would have noticed her studying him but today he seemed lost in thought.

  “How did your last job go?” he asked, returning to the present.

  “As expected. Nothing went as planned. The locals in Zecorria didn’t cooperate.”

  “But you got the job done,” he said, stating it as fact.

  “I did. Do you want the details?”

  Much to her surprise he waved it away. “I’ll read it in your report. I know you’ve only just got back, but something else has already come up.”

  “I’m ready, Sir.”

  His smile was brief but in that moment she saw a spark of the man she remembered. “It’s a missing person case. I need you to look into it.”

  Tammy had to work hard to conceal her disappointment. The last ten years had seen her mostly working on cases that threatened hundreds or thousands of lives. Political kidnappings, religious splinter groups, magic-related hate crimes and politically sensitive jobs that only a few people were allowed to know about. The scale of what she had been dealing with was always significant. A missing person seemed like a grand departure and a waste of her abilities.

  “My eyesight may be fading, but even I can see you’re disappointed.”

  “Why do you want me on this case?” she asked.

  Instead of answering he tossed a letter across the desk. “Read it.”

  Even before she opened the letter Tammy recognised the distinctive wax seal. A stylised tower surrounded by a sea of stars. The letter was from the Red Tower in Shael.

  “It was addressed to you?” she asked.

  “Yes, but there’s a separate letter inside with your name on it.”

  The letter to the Khevassar was brief and she quickly scanned the contents before turning to her envelope. The seal was intact, not that she was surprised. The Old Man’s integrity was one of many things she admired about him.

  From the first word she recognised the handwriting. The contents were similar to the other letter, but there was also some personal information unrelated to the case. Both letters were unsigned. She glanced up at the Old Man when she was done but his expression was unreadable.

  “Been keeping secrets?” he asked, then held up a hand before she could answer. “It doesn’t matter. Let me guess what’s in it,” he said, gesturing at her letter. “Someone has gone missing from a village and they want you to investigate.”

  “Yes.”

  “Who is it from?”

  “An old friend,” said Tammy, touching the hilt of the unusual sword she carried on her belt. It had been a gift several years ago from Balfruss during their voyage to the remote city of Voechenka in Shael.

  The Old Man glanced at her sword and grunted. He knew all about her journey with Balfruss and what had really happened there. Only a few people knew the whole story and only the Old Man had taken it all in his stride. Maybe nothing could surprise him any more.

  “When will you leave?” he asked.

  “Tomorrow. The village isn’t far. I can reach it in a couple of days.”

  “Take whatever supplies you need and report back when it’s done.”

  As she left the Old Man’s office, Tammy felt a stab of pity for him, buried beneath a mountain of paperwork, working all hours in service of the people. He was too old to be doing this and should have retired years ago. His family should be caring for him, but when he took on the mantle of the Khevassar he’d given up everything, including his name, his past and his family. She wondered if, looking back over the last few decades, would he think it was all worth it?

  Tammy flopped down on the bed beside Kovac and it took her a while to catch her breath. Her skin was slick with sweat and loose strands of hair clung to her face. She needed a bath and at least ten hours’ sleep. She also had to be up early in the morning to get back on the road and ride south. All thoughts of that had vanished an hour ago when they’d been tearing off each other’s clothes.

  Tammy rolled out of bed, pulled on some loose trousers and a shirt then tied back her long blonde hair in a ponytail. She filled two cups with water and brought them back to bed.

  “You were trying to tell me something when you arrived,” she said.

  Kovac gulped his water and poured some into his hand before wiping it across his face and greying beard. There was less black in his hair than she remembered. He didn’t like her mentioning it. No one wanted to be reminded they were getting older, but she thought it made him look distinguished.

  “Last month I was up in Zecorria. I heard some rumours about a smuggler who used to work for a crime boss here in Perizzi.”

  “What kind of rumours?” she asked.

  “This was a few years back, but apparently he robbed one of the Dons and took a lot of money.” Tammy knew from first-hand experience that was never a good idea. They hadn’t achieved their positions from being kind and forgiving. “The smuggler thought he’d covered his tracks, but when the Don found out, he came to a nasty end. The problem is, no one ever found the money. They think he hid it somewhere in Perizzi. Mercenaries love the idea of finding buried gold.”

  “So, are you here because of the money?” she asked.

  Kovac gave her a withering look. “No, I’m not.”

  “Sorry,” she said, touching his face. Despite earning a living with his sword, she knew Kovac was better than that. He had morals which, in her experience, many mercenaries seemed to lack.

  She would pass the information on to the Old Man. If more mercenaries turned up in the city hoping to find the treasure, there could be a spike in the number of burglaries. As well as making money mercenaries also liked spending their gold on food, drink and a companion for the night. Also they weren’t afraid to get into a fight with each other or strangers. Depending on the number of treasure hunters in the city they might need more squads of the Watch to patrol the docks.

  Tammy saw how Kovac was looking at her and suddenly felt cold inside. He hadn’t told her the story because she was a Guardian. “Who was he?” she asked, although part of her already knew. “Who was the smuggler?”

  “He was your husband.”

  The old pain that she thought was gone suddenly returned. She’d tried to lock it away in the dark corners of her mind and forget all about it. She’d hoped that by doing so it would disappear in time, but it was still there. She’d been carrying it around for all these years. After all this time she was amazed at how much it still hurt.

  “Why would you tell me that and risk what we have?”

  Kovac sighed and looked away. “Because there’s a distance between us. You haven’t fully let go of the past. Part of you is still living there with him.”

  Tammy wanted to argue but she knew he was right. Her life had radically changed the day her husband had been murdered almost fifteen years ago. She’d gone from working for one of the crime lords in the city to preventing crime in the Watch and then the Guardians. That was not
all she’d given up in search of a new life. She didn’t want to think about that right now as her mind was reeling from Kovac’s revelation.

  “If you want me to stay away from it, just say the word. I’ll never mention it again,” he promised.

  Part of her wanted to tell him to leave it buried in the past where it belonged, but she’d never been one to shy away from a difficult decision. Besides, as a Guardian it was her job to solve cases and bring people to justice. Sometimes that included solving murders and giving family members closure so that they could move on with their lives. Perhaps it was time she was granted that same measure of peace.

  “When are you heading back to Zecorria?”

  “Three days,” said Kovac. “Protection for a merchant train.”

  “Find out who murdered him. Get me some answers.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Kovac.

  “Get me a name, but be careful,” said Tammy, touching him on the cheek to show that she wasn’t angry with him. That would come later, when she found out who was responsible.

  Despite the hour, Tammy didn’t have to wait long for someone to answer the door. Her twin sister, Mary-Beth, looked the same as when she’d last seen her a few years ago. Without saying a word she hugged Tammy and ushered her into the house.

  The kitchen was still a tidy haven where everything was in its rightful place. From the neatly labelled jars of herbs, to the freshly scrubbed pans hanging from the ceiling, the room was incredibly neat. In a house with several children that was a considerable feat. Despite their differences, they both had methodical minds that liked order.

  Something spicy was bubbling away in a large pot on the stove. The tantalising smells reminding Tammy that she’d not eaten that morning. Her stomach growled and without being asked Mary put a plate of fresh bread, cheese and fruit in front of her. As Tammy started eating Mary resumed chopping more vegetables for the stew, her knife moving so quickly it flashed in the air. Tammy had no doubt she would have made a deadly swordswoman and Guardian. As twins, when they looked in a mirror, she suspected they each saw the road not taken.