Chapter Twenty-One – Truth & DistractionGray tried to march past Crewel. He couldn’t directly engage the Magistrate in an unexpected conversation because that might seem suspicious. On the other hand, he knew the old man wouldn’t just let him pass by. Not after their tense confrontation. Besides, Gray looked suspicious, skulking outside the pink pace on a rainy night.

  Gray’s gambit paid off.

  Crewel called out, “You there! Who are you and why are you out where you shouldn’t be?”

  Gray pivoted and threw back his hood. “Oh, Magistrate Crewel. I was so deep in thought, I didn’t notice you. Nice night for a walk, isn’t it.” He then approached the man.

  “It’s not,” Crewel said. “What are you doing here?”

  Gray pointed to one of the basement windows. “My squad is your library, studying history and mana theory. We are at First Field to strengthen both our minds and our bodies. I want to know more about the Fall of Astria. Any theories?”

  Gray didn’t dare look up, but he was dying to know if Tomi had made it to the office window. They might not be able to get in, but maybe, just maybe, she might see what was on Crewel’s desk. As a catkin, she had excellent night vision.

  Crewel frowned. “Yes, Mrs. Quillswrath is very happy to have your squad in her archive. I have no thoughts on the fall of Astria, except that their decline has provided us with excellent food. You’ve eaten at Gorgonzo’s Counter. You know.”

  Gray cocked his head. “And there you have it, once again you know my business. Is it the crows? Can you talk with the birds?”

  Crewel’s smile showed yellow teeth. “Something like that.”

  “So no theories on the fall? Was it the Troublemaker and his army of cambions? Do you say the Troublemaker’s real name?”

  “Why shouldn’t I?” Crewel asked. “Malchutt is dead, if he ever lived at all. Perhaps he’s just a story, like the gods, like the angels, for all we have seen these past thousands of years are demonic creatures with little thought or feeling to them. I believe a soul sickness swept through Astria, killing most everyone. The ones that were left lost their cores, and so, we have the Null Breaks. You won’t read that in the history books. It’s far too simple of a story. You can’t fight pgue with a sword or spells.”

  “So you do think about the past,” Gray said. “I’ve not heard this pgue theory before. Is it in A Song of Scale and Ash?”

  Crewel searched his face. Both of their faces were wet from the misting rain. “I do not keep track of the books in our archive. That would be question for Mrs. Quillswrath. Why are you out here while your squad is in there.” The old man pointed, but he didn’t look up…at least not yet.

  “Needed some air,” Gray said. He had to keep Crewel talking. He had to.

  But it was too te. Crewel turned and squinted.

  Gray’s eyes followed.

  “The window to my office is open,” Crewel mused. “Do you see it?”

  Gray almost asked which window led to his office, but that would be admitting guilt. “Yes. I see the open window. You should keep it shut…with the rain we get. Rain the desert, I still find it odd.”

  “There’s a lot of odd things here at the belly of the World. I should go attend to that.” Crewel started off, but Gray couldn’t let him just leave.

  Gray hurried after him but didn’t call out until he’d turned the corner. He would no longer be able to see his office window.

  “Magistrate, I have a question for you.”

  Crewel turned, obviously annoyed. “What is it?”

  “Why do you hate Captain Sevanya?” he asked. “Was it because she murdered her two st squads?”

  Crewel’s thin lips curved into what might be called a smile if his eyes weren’t so empty. “Or was it that she caused the fall of the Wrath Tower two hundred years ago? Why stop there? She caused the fall of Astria. Why stop there? The Archangel Ishal didn’t start the Third God War, it was Captain Sette Sevanya, or Settie to her friends.”

  “You’re not her friend, and yet, you call her Settie.”

  “You’re right, I’m not. And I’m not your friend either, so discuss your concerns with someone else.” The Magistrate turned to leave.

  “I’m not discussing my concerns. I want to know why you, you Malcon Crewel, hate my sponsor. You don’t need to answer for anyone else, though she doesn’t have any admirers that I can find. But you.”

  Crewel stormed up to Gray. “Fine, whelp. Your captain was very successful thirty years ago. She was admired. Keep in mind, that’s not when she first started running squads through First Field. No, but that was when she had her successes, which expins why she is so respected at the Crown. Thirty years ago, she sponsored at least five squads at First Field that found very good homes among the families. She should’ve quit. Or she should’ve gone to one of the families to recruit for them or find a pce in their ranks. At least five squads, maybe more, because the records are not good. But no, she kept finding squads for First Field, again and again, of all different kinds. There was no reason for that. I know for a fact that all of the Watchfire families offered her positions in their ranks. Well, I was hasty. Not all the families. There are two exceptions. One are the orcs, who are useless, and the dragons, who loathe her far more than I do.”

  “She is not very popur among dragons.” Gray remembered that even the mild-mannered Mama Cinders didn’t have a kind word for his sponsor.

  “I don’t like her, Mr. Fade, because I don’t trust her. And you shouldn’t either. If she doesn’t care about the Watchfire families, or finding them recruits, then why is she running squads through First Field?”

  “I don’t know,” Gray said. “She’s old, rich, and unpleasant. Maybe she needed a hobby.”

  That made Crewel smile for real. “Gambling the lives of children in death matches makes for poor sport in my opinion, and I run this madhouse.”

  “What happened to her st two squads?”

  Crewel paused. “Part of me wants to keep that to myself. I like that you don’t know, and that you are guessing. Maybe instead of Malchutt being the bane of this world, worse than any of the sin gods, it was Settie. And yes, I call her that, because I’ve known her for decades. She doesn’t age. I do. Perhaps it is envy. Not that we talk about such things.”

  “I don’t think she’s Malchutt,” Gray said. “I hope she’s not, or there are any number of paintings that would need to be redone.”

  This time, Crewel ughed at his joke. “You are not wrong. Cassandra had red hair, but no, Cassandra was the hero, not the vilin, if the histories are to be believed, which I have strong doubts.”

  Gray couldn’t help but correct him. “Princess Cassandra. Tell me about her st two squads.”

  Crewel didn’t say a word. He didn’t leave either.

  Gray knew what he wanted. “I should’ve been more polite during that st meeting with you. I should’ve sit. Mrs. Quillswrath could’ve brought us tea and cookies. I do apologize, and I would appreciate the information.”

  Crewel nodded. “Apology accepted.”

  Gray had almost started to like the old, wily man in front of him, who was so old, and yet, moved like a panther. But then Crewel had to flex his power, just because he could.

  Crewel turned and walked away from him.

  Gray expected him to keep on walking, and he didn’t care. Settie might’ve murdered her st fifty squads. It didn’t change the fact that she had given him both a heart and power and wanted her squad to exceed. And if Squad 23 succeeded, Rynn would find a good position with the elven Watchfire family in Envy City.

  Crewel, though, turned. “Your sponsor doesn’t run a squad through here every year like she did in her glory days. She waits until she has what she thinks is a winning team. Her st squad was five years ago, and they were killed, all of them, in the Reckoning. It was a terrible thing, but she didn’t have anything to do with it. Neither did we. You might not believe that, but it’s true.”

  “And before that?” Gray asked.

  “Fifteen years ago. Her squad won the Testing, hands down, and their Training went well. All of the Watchfire families were so excited. It was as if Settie had her old magic again. But the Hunting that year, the Hunting was devasting. You know someone who lost their bonded during that year’s Hunting, I believe.”

  Gray remembered that it was during the Hunting that year that the Widow Stone lost her husband. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

  “Your spies are good,” Gray said.

  “No. My spies are excellent.” Crewel turned and left. In seconds, he had gone through the front door of the pink pace.

  Gray hurried back to the path that faced his office. There was little chance that Crewel wouldn’t discover their bit of espionage, but Gray didn’t think they would get into trouble. He’d never been told that burgry was against the rules. He could cim ignorance.

  Had Crewel told the truth?

  Gray thought he had. Maybe the Widow Stone would tell him more if he went to her knowing some of the story already.

  The window was closed, which was a problem. Crewel had seen it open.

  Tomi came from around the corner, walking with a smile on her face. “I have good news. I don’t know what it means, but the Soulshred is all about a game called Chaotica.”

  Gray had no idea what that might mean, but he was going to celebrate while he could.

  Let Crewel burn in hell.

  He knew Settie would hit the ceiling, but he was going to tell her about the open window, Crewel’s spying, and the name of the game. He wouldn’t mention Crewel’s theories on the fall of Astria, or that Settie had been pguing Midmere for centuries. He’d also keep the fate of her st two squads to himself.

  Even if he avoided the more controversial subjects, she was still going to be so mad. Oddly enough, he was looking forward to all the yelling.

  In a shocking turn of events, Settie didn’t yell at all.

  She ughed and ughed.

  They all did, until they heard the rules of the game. Then Gray felt like crying.

  With only five in their squad, there was little chance of winning.

  Once again, they were going to be expected to do the impossible.