9

Dominic turned to ask Markus why “another body” would precipitate a mob at the Imperial Palace, but he had already left. Ardhuin went to the workroom with the magical listening shield. When she returned she would not sit down, but paced impatiently, refusing to be drawn into conversation.

His frustration had several layers, really. Ardhuin had been on edge since Parys, and the more people she had to deal with the worse it got. The strict, formal setting of the Preusan court was very different from Peran and the Bretagne countryside, not to mention more populated. She was even more impatient with him, and he’d thought things were improving in that regard. Now, however, she wouldn’t even tell him what was wrong.

This wasn’t the first time he’d seen her become stubbornly silent and evasive. Even regaining consciousness after the ley lines, confused and in pain, he could tell she was trying to hide something from him. Then, it had been the knowledge of his shameful actions. Had he done something else to embarrass her? Was she angry with him?

He glanced down at the emerald rosebud stickpin and smiled. No, she was not angry with him. It had to be something else. He wished she would trust him with it, whatever it was.

Their departure from the palace was hurried and confused. Markus rushed them, surrounded by defensive magicians and soldiers, down the stairs and out to a waiting carriage. Dominic was pleased when Markus did not join them in the carriage, but rode beside it.

As they left the grounds of the Imperial Palace he could not see the mob Gutrune von Kitren had mentioned, but he could hear it. People were shouting something he could barely make out—something about blood. He was glad they had taken a side gate.

The carriage swayed as they went around a corner, and Dominic remarked, “They seem to be in a hurry.”

Ardhuin merely nodded and did not look at him. She wore the shadow hat, so he could not see her face.

Dominic sighed. There had to be something she was willing to talk about. “I did not tell you…I was invited to a gathering being held tonight by some of the students I spoke to, the ones I met at Siebert’s lab. If there are disturbances in the street, however, it would probably be best not to go.”

“I think we should,” Ardhuin said. “This could be useful.”

Surprised, Dominic blurted, “You want to go? I'm not sure—it might be awkward. Most student lodgings don't permit women visitors.” Then he shook his head in annoyance at his own stupidity. She didn’t have to look like a woman if she didn’t want to, and what on earth was he doing discouraging her? “But with illusion, of course, it will not be a problem. Why do you want to attend this party?”

“The students won’t know I’m not supposed to be told anything.” Ardhuin hunched a shoulder. “Besides, I don’t like it at the palace.”

Ah. Maybe this was the problem. “What’s wrong?”

Her gloved hands twisted together. “I think the only person who wants me here is the King. Everyone on the Council has some objection. I’m too young, I’m female, and how can I possibly be the Mage Guardian of Bretagne when I’m Atlantean? So of course they don’t want to let me do anything. They just sit and talk.”

“I don’t think that’s unique to your situation,” Dominic remarked dryly. “Councils are famous for it.”

“But they are frightened,” Ardhuin said softly, shaking her head in disbelief. “Very frightened. Why won’t they let me help them?”

Their entourage reached the entrance of what at first looked like one of the numerous military barracks of Baerlen, but Dominic caught a glimpse of the sign that read “Kaiserliche Kriegszauberkollegium” on the gate. Imperial War Magic College. The building was impressive in an austere way, with vast sweeps of unornamented granite and a front of tall, square columns.

Dominic helped Ardhuin out of the carriage, and he felt her hand trembling when she saw the entrance. He was not surprised to see a swirling cloud of black avoidance magic begin to surround her. This was the spell on the book of magic that had first gotten him in trouble, and he shook his head, remembering. It was obvious to him, but for everyone else it made Ardhuin very difficult to look at directly—and they would not notice that they were looking away.

It was another way of hiding, but this time he did not object. The presence of Preusan military magicians made it all the more likely they would try to prevent her from even entering—if they saw her.

Markus Asgaya was looking about, worried, until Dominic gave him a discreet nod.

“The Mage Guardian is here to examine the prisoner,” Markus informed the uniformed magician who had come to greet their arrival. The magician gave Dominic a stiff bow.

Dominic stifled the urge to correct his misapprehension. It would only complicate matters, and this way Ardhuin would be protected from notice. They followed the military magician up the stone stairs and through an echoing entry hall, then down a corridor illuminated by magically frozen flames. Dominic stared, wondering how it had been done and resolving to ask Ardhuin at the earliest opportunity.

Down a series of rough stone stairs they went, with guards at the head and foot. At the bottom was a large door completely encased in iron. Markus produced a document, which the guard carefully examined before the door was opened.

“I did not know there would be a prison in a war magic college,” Dominic murmured to the shadow beside him. Ardhuin’s hand tightened on his arm. The door closed behind them with a deep clang he could feel through the flagstone floor.

No one had accompanied them through the door, which surprised him until he saw that there were guards within the prison as well. He saw Ardhuin glance at them and then leave the avoidance magic in place.

The failed assassin was a sad figure of a man, bony and haggard with wisps of hair in patches on his scalp. His prison clothes were thin. There was a chair placed for him, but the prisoner made no attempt to use it. He huddled against the wall, his chains clanking as he shook, and slowly slid to the floor. Pale, watery eyes watched them with abject terror.

“This is the man you found in the park? The anarchist?” Ardhuin asked in amazement. “How could he stand up long enough to shoot anybody?”

Markus grimaced. “This is the one. Hans Krieder.” At the mention of his name, the prisoner cowered even further, raising horribly scarred hands to hide his face. His right hand was missing portions of the fingers. The scars were old ones, and Dominic recalled Markus Asgaya saying the man had been in a philogiston explosion.

“Look me,” Ardhuin said in slow Preusan. The man whimpered and slowly lowered his hands, looking about fearfully. She lifted the veil of her hat. “I help.” This seemed to calm him a little.

Ardhuin stared at him, biting her lip, then slowly moved forward. The prisoner whimpered again, shrinking away as far as the chains would permit.

“Are you sure you need to be so close to him?” Markus asked, and Dominic could see his long brown fingers curling with suppressed intent to pull her back, away from potential danger.

“He's chained with iron,” Ardhuin said in a choked voice. “I must examine him carefully if we are to remove the geas.”

Ardhuin knelt beside the terrified prisoner. Dominic saw power build around her hands, and she carefully touched Krieder's head. The effect was sudden, and remarkable. Hans Krieder stopped trembling and stared unblinking into midair with a slack expression on his face. Ardhuin changed the position of her hands and the magic changed too, continuously, more quickly than Dominic could follow.

Krieder started to breathe more quickly, and sweat beaded on his brow. Again Ardhuin shifted, and the prisoner showed increasing agitation, making mewling noises in the back of his throat, but he seemed strangely unable to move.

Dominic drew a sharp breath. He could see something now. Magic, like lavender mist, faint but visible on the assassin’s head, where the man’s scalp showed through his thin hair. Ardhuin must have brought it up from where it was hidden. Dominic shuddered. To have magic embedded in you like that….

Ardhuin bent her head and spoke into the man's ear, words soft but intense, and Dominic saw she was focusing power.

Krieder's eyes bulged, and he screamed. Screamed as if his heart were being ripped out of his chest, his body arced and rigid.

“No!” Ardhuin desperately grabbed his head in both hands, power streaming from her fingers. Krieder spasmed and collapsed in a limp heap, and she let go.

Ardhuin scrambled back, then hesitantly reached out to shake Krieder's shoulder. He did not respond; his head lolled from one side to the other without any change of expression.

The iron door scraped open, and the other defensive magicians of Ardhuin’s guard came in. They cast a quick look around the cell, then stepped back, alert and wary. Markus had interposed himself between Ardhuin and the assassin and was examining him.

“Is he dead?” asked Dominic.

“There is a pulse,” Markus said, and shrugged. “Not much else.”

Ardhuin looked pale, swaying on her feet, and Dominic hastened to support her. “His body lives, but his mind—” she gagged and swallowed, hard. “He has no mind anymore. There was a trap attached to the geas. Mage work,” she said, glancing at Markus. “The same kind the Gaulans used during the War.”

Footsteps pounded in the hall, and this time soldiers of the Kollegium came through the door. Ardhuin hastily let down her hat’s veiling as they entered.

“What happened?” one snapped in rapid Preusan.

Markus Asgaya turned to face them. “A remnant spell to prevent interrogation,” he said. He spoke calmly, but Dominic could see the tension in his body. “It has been dealt with, I believe.”

Ardhuin gave a minute nod, and Dominic looked carefully and could see no trace of magic on the prisoner.

“The geas is gone,” he said, and grimaced. Ardhuin was right. There was nothing left of the man but his still-breathing body. “You should send for a doctor.”

Markus sighed, shaking his head. “There is nothing else to be done, I suppose. A pity. Well, at least we learned something.”

Something in his voice made Dominic look up, disturbed. The Preusans weren’t going to blame Ardhuin for that, were they?

There were more people in the hallway of the prison section when they left the cell, some in the semi-civilian dress of military magicians. More were waiting for them outside the iron door. Dominic glanced at Markus. His face was a mask.

The military magicians were distantly polite. Procedure must be followed. A report of what had happened was needed, since the prisoner was their responsibility and they must be able to answer any questions as to his condition. They were shown to a room bare of any furnishings except for a wooden bench and a framed engraving of the Siege of Andaluz.

Dominic started to speak, only to be stopped by a warning glance from Markus. Ardhuin gestured, and a thin fog of magic filled the room.

“Our voices are muffled now,” she said. “Do you think they are trying to listen?”

“I didn’t see any magic until you cast the spell,” Dominic commented. “Is there a problem?”

Markus let out a pent-up breath. “Please understand I trust the Lady Magus and her abilities implicitly. But do you see how this will appear to the Council?”

Ardhuin sank down on the hard wooden bench. “A failed attempt to lift the geas.” Her voice was dull with despair. “And I did fail. That poor man….”

“But the geas is gone—I saw it disappear!” Dominic protested.

“However, the prisoner is now even less communicative than when it was present,” Markus pointed out. “You must be aware that there are those on the Council who would prefer to decline the assistance of the Lady Magus, and this incident will give them an excuse to do just that.”

“What can we do?”

Markus grinned. “I don’t suppose you could discover the plot, the plotters, and a tidy solution to everything before dawn tomorrow? That would be very helpful. I don’t wish to appear unreasonable, though. Any new information would be…not precisely a distraction, but a different bone for the Council to chew. They are more tenacious than intelligent.”

Just when he was most infuriating, Markus would reveal a side Dominic could not help but sympathize with.

“They wouldn’t let us find out anything before,” Ardhuin said bitterly. “Why would they change now? As soon as we return they will refuse to let me leave again.”

“Then we should not return until we have discovered something,” Dominic replied. He had no idea how they were to do this, but anything was better than seeing the look of despair in her eyes.

“You are aware that the general feeling at the Kriegszauberkollegium is also…not precisely friendly to you,” Markus said. “In fact, I believe they will try to make mischief for you, and use this incident to do it. They will not help in any way.”

Ardhuin sighed. “Then we need to leave without being detected.”

Markus gave her a sidelong glance. When he spoke, his voice did not have the usual undercurrent of amusement, and Dominic felt his curiosity spike. Markus seemed wary of her. “From what I have just observed, you have no need of my assistance in that matter.”

“Not for that, no. But I am quite certain the Kriegszauberkollegium has other protections, possibly even regular Argus castings. I am not asking you to tell me,” Ardhuin said hurriedly, holding up a hand to stop his protest. “But I would rather simply avoid such things, instead of using my own methods to…eliminate them.”

Dominic hid a smile at Markus’ expression, which was a combination of horror and fascination. “Tempting as it is to find out what you would do, my tiresome conscience will not permit me,” he said finally. “But do you have some destination in mind? Or is this just a stroll for exercise?”

“The party tonight,” Ardhuin said, glowering at him.

“A party?” Markus asked, incredulous.

“Students that I met at Professor Siebert’s laboratory,” Dominic explained, grinning. “She wants to talk to them herself.”

“The military has already sealed off the laboratory, and I am quite sure they have been questioning everybody with great enthusiasm. No doubt their magicians have scoured the place.”

Military magicians. Dominic blinked, trying to remember why that phrase had sudden meaning. Then he had it, and a wave of cold washed over him.

“Dominic? What’s wrong?” Ardhuin was staring at him.

“Perhaps it is nothing, but…I remembered something Siebert’s student told me. A military magician visited the laboratory just before the accident.”

Markus Asgaya raised an eyebrow. “And you think they might be connected?”

Dominic shrugged. “I don’t know. But if they are, I would not rely on that investigation.”

“We already know someone in the government is involved,” Ardhuin pointed out. “I’m beginning to think that’s why the Council wouldn’t let me do anything. And now that they have an excuse to get rid of me, how long do you think it will be before they do? We need you not only for dealing with the magic here, but because you know more about the political situation.”

Markus folded his arms, leaning against the wall. “So you want to leave without telling anyone and you want me to assist? Do you have any idea how much trouble I would be in?”

“Only if you get caught,” Dominic muttered. Markus gave him a fulminating look.

“You could be in trouble anyway,” Ardhuin said. “Remember that illusioned letter? They could try again to make you look like a conspirator.”

The defensive magician sighed and shook his head, running his fingers through his short dark hair. “Yes, very true. Forgive me. When I think of court intrigue, I usually do not imagine having such a close view of the proceedings.” He glanced at Dominic. The glint of amusement returned. “Now you only need to come up with an explanation of why you are bringing two uninvited guests.”

Dominic snorted. “This is a student party. All we need to do is bring food. No questions asked.”

“You are determined?” Markus glanced at Ardhuin, then Dominic. “Then I will attempt to find a way out that will not tempt the Lady Magus to destroy Imperial property or endanger anyone.” He opened the door to their room, and with a quick glance about to make sure he was not observed, he left.

“I could have illusioned him,” Ardhuin muttered.

“There is no need. By himself he will occasion no comment, and he can move more quickly. Besides, I think you should rest a little.”

He noticed her hands twisting and knotting together, and since they were alone, he permitted himself to take them in his own.

She started, but before he could move away she had recovered enough to grip his hand tightly.

“You tried your best,” Dominic said, trying to comfort her. She was shaking, but he could not read her face because of the shadow hat. “It must have been a very powerful geas.”

Her grip on his hand tightened. “Dominic, whoever did that wouldn’t even let him scream! And then left that…that final spell. They must have known magicians would try to remove it.”

“The incident with the prisoner was very distressing to you. Are you quite certain you wish to go to the party?”

“I’m fine.” Her tone was curt, and did not invite further inquiry.

“Are you? I am not convinced,” Dominic said, folding his arms.

She threw up her hands. “Well, what would convince you? Perhaps you neglected to notice, but someone is killing Mage Guardians and using forbidden war magic all over the place, and—” she gulped. “It has to be stopped. It doesn’t matter how I feel about it.”

“Yes, it matters. To me, at least.” Perhaps that was of little importance to her, he thought bitterly.

Ardhuin glanced at him, the dark veiling of the hat obscuring all but the outline of her face. Before she could stop him—or he could stop himself—Dominic took the bottom edge of the veil and snapped it over her head.

A sharp, startled intake of breath and one upraised hand were her only reactions. They stared at each other, Dominic cursing his sudden impulse. The expression in Ardhuin’s sea-colored, reddened eyes held a noticeable trace of fear.

Dominic dropped his gaze, rubbing a hand across his forehead. They were both on edge, it seemed.

“Please forgive me. I am afraid my dislike of that thing is approaching the level of mania.”

“But I need it,” Ardhuin said softly. “It’s dangerous for me to be noticed. Especially now.”

Dominic sighed, then smiled at her worried face. “I know. I just wish it wasn’t necessary.” One tendril of red hair hung free, and he reached up to tuck it behind her ear. Ardhuin froze for an instant, then turned her head so his hand cupped her face. He could feel her breath on his skin, short and quick.

Then he heard the door open, and Ardhuin spun away.

“Well, that wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be,” Markus said cheerfully. “Perhaps more exertion than I would prefer, but—” he gave Dominic a puzzled look. “Now, why are you glaring at me?”

It was good to have something to do, something that demanded her attention. What else could go wrong? Ardhuin strengthened the intensity of the avoidance spell around herself and Dominic, hoping the additional power would not be noticed. Markus was taking care of his own shielding magic. That was only proper. He knew the best course of action for his own safety.

They waited, hidden, for what seemed like hours. When the halls were empty, Markus led them on a strange path. First down one main hallway, past a throng of uniformed magicians. Then down a servant’s stair, rough underfoot and plain in color, out a side door and then up a narrow marble staircase to a large balcony beyond glass-paned doors. She could see a carriage court and gates beyond, where several sentries stood guard.

“I’ll just make sure it’s clear,” Markus said softly, opening the glass doors with care and slipping outside.

Ardhuin shivered. The wind was sharp and cold, and she wanted to be anywhere but here. To distract herself, she examined an old painting hanging on the wall. It was a battle piece, but unusual for the fact that no weapons were depicted. It was all magicians and magic. The painter had added a ribbon over the scene, on which were gold sigils. She recognized the sigil of Oron, as well as a few others that had appeared in his correspondence. At the bottom of the painting, where crushed and defeated mages of the Grand Armeé cringed, was what looked like a tattered paper. It had sigils too, but only one looked familiar to her.

“Dominic. Isn’t that the sigil that was on the illusioned letter?” she asked, pointing.

He came over to her and stared at the painting. “Yes, that’s it! What is this?”

“It’s a scene from the Mage War. Look, the allies are here. That must be the Gaulan mage who sent that letter. But how? They were so sure they had caught or killed them all.”

Just then, a tapping at the window alerted them to the return of Markus.

“You must go over the balustrade,” Markus whispered. “Do you need assistance?”

She looked over the edge. There was a section of flat roof, perhaps two feet wide, that paralleled the upper section of the building. If she kept her back to the wall it wouldn’t be too bad. Getting over the balustrade with her skirts was another matter. Markus had warned her not to use levitation anywhere in the Kriegszauberkollegium. There were several different detection spells set for that.

Well, at least it was dark. Nobody could see her clumsiness, or her face red from effort. And she couldn’t complain, since she had insisted on going.

The path on the roof connected to one of the stables by a stone archway. Ardhuin saw the glint of ice in the shadows, and added that to her list of fears. What would she do if she fell?

The ice seemed to be concentrated in the ridges between the stones. Carefully, she inched her way across the arch. Her knees were weak when they finally made it across to the relative safety of the stable roof. But they were not finished yet.

“How are we going to get down?” Ardhuin whispered to the shadows, hoping one of them was Markus. There was a sharp drop to the stone pavement from where they were, and she couldn’t see any way to descend safely.

No reply. She started to worry, then Dominic said softly, “He’s bringing a ladder. There, it’s in place. Right by that broken slate.”

She felt her way to the magically shadowed ladder and fumbled with her feet for the rungs. Her skirts got caught, necessitating a furious, silent struggle that ripped something, but she was free. She’d have to fix it herself later, though. It would cause comment if the servants found out.

Now they had to cross back almost the entire length of the Kriegszauberkollegium to find the gate Markus wanted to use. At least they were on the ground now. The gate was guarded, but Markus removed his avoidance spell and the guard let him through, pausing while the defensive magician asked some question Ardhuin didn’t understand. It was enough of a distraction to let her and Dominic go through undetected.

Once through, Markus led them through the shadows until she could no longer see the Kriegszauberkollegium walls. They crossed the street to an alley. “Now would be a good time for the illusions, milady,” he said quietly, glancing out at the street. It was deserted.

“Are you sure?”

He smiled. “We can find a cab on the Opferstrasse, but it will be easier if we aren’t invisible. And I don’t want to be recognized just now.”

Ardhuin wanted to ask about the guard at the gate, but was afraid her shaking voice would betray her. Markus must think the risk acceptable.

Dominic had to appear as himself; that couldn’t be helped. She knew what illusion would suit her, but for Markus….

There had been a young, gawky, and eager magician in the crowd at the Kriegszauberkollegium, with hair so blond it was almost white. That would work, especially if she replaced the uniform with clothing a student would wear.

It was hard to focus—with the icy wind, her jittery nerves, and fatigue, there was always something to disturb her concentration. Three attempts, and still nothing. She could not complete the delicate bubble of magic that created the illusion. Dominic was looking at her with concern. He knew it shouldn’t be that difficult for her.

Ardhuin took a deep breath. She remembered how pleased her great-uncle had been when he found her out, how astonished she had been that she was not going to be punished for “disappearing” the hated asparagus on her plate. At the age of seven, she had not understood what she was doing was magic. And eleven years later, she still did not understand why other magicians found illusion so difficult. It was fun.

She smiled, closed her eyes, and summoned up a wave of power, shaping it to her will by not even allowing the possibility it would fail. She heard a stifled gasp from Dominic and felt the internal snap in the flow of her power that told her the spell had closed itself, completed. She opened her eyes.

A gangly, white-blond student stood before her with a lopsided grin on his face. Dominic was struggling to contain his amusement.

“Now, you look very familiar,” the student said with Markus’ voice. “Although I prefer your true form, I can see a definite resemblance. Don’t you agree?” He turned to Dominic.

Dominic squinted at her. “It’s hard for me to tell. I can see both the real thing and the illusion, and the light is poor,” he said apologetically.

“This is what my brother Brian looks like,” Ardhuin mumbled, confused. She’d picked him because he was the youngest, most likely to pass for a student. All her brothers were handsome, but he was the best-looking of them. Which, of course, meant that she and the other brothers had to tease him mercilessly about it. This was probably Fate’s revenge, telling her if she’d only been born male she would have been considered handsome, too. “We should go.”

The street was not as empty now. A sleek black carriage with a device on the panel went by as they left the alley, and a man in a heavy coat and muffler was hurrying away on the other side of the road.

Markus-the-student led the way to the philogiston-lit street ahead, which was much wider and had even more traffic. Ardhuin presumed it was the Opferstrasse, and hoped it would be easy to find transportation. The wind was making her fingers numb.

She scanned the traffic, wondering how one discerned a carriage-for-hire in Baerlen. How strange—there was the black carriage with the device again. Hadn’t it been going the other way earlier?

Even stranger, it was coming towards them. And stopping. The door opened. Gutrune von Kitren was inside, calm and imperturbable as ever. She wore a dark pelisse trimmed with black fur, making her pale face appear detached in darkness.

“I am on my way home. May I take you anywhere?”

Ardhuin gaped. Then a strong hand in the small of her back propelled her forward.

“Get in!” hissed Markus.

Somehow she got in the carriage without tripping. Her skirts were illusioned to look like trousers, but the reality was still there. She should have thought of that. Dominic was propelled in after her, and then Markus leapt in and closed the door. Gutrune took one hand out of her large fur muff to open a compartment next to her seat, on the wall. She spoke into a small, dark opening revealed there, and Ardhuin felt the carriage start to move.

She turned a reproachful look at Markus. It was hard to tell through the illusion, but the tone of his voice made it clear he was furious.

“There’s no point in continuing if even she can find us so easily,” he said, with a suggestion of a snarl. In his own voice, too, since she had not added anything to disguise it.

Gutrune von Kitren raised an eyebrow. “That is uncalled for, Herr Asgaya. However, I am glad you had the good sense to insist on accompanying them.”

“Insist? Good sense?” Markus sputtered. “I wasn’t given a choice!”

“Well, you were,” Dominic pointed out. “Not a very pleasant one, I agree, but that was hardly our fault. How did you find us?” he asked Gutrune.

“And where are we going?” added Ardhuin. Her voice was disguised, but it didn’t seem to confuse Gutrune. It was all very strange, but for some reason she did not doubt Gutrune could be trusted.

“I had my men watching all possible exits from the Kriegsa as I circled in the carriage. It is not uncommon for drivers to take their carriages in a roundabout path while waiting for their passengers to arrive, especially when the weather is too cold to leave horses standing for very long. One of my men recognized you leaving. When he saw you go into a blind alley and then three people come out, none of them you, he decided that was unusual and flagged me down. We are still circling, until you tell me where you would like to go,” she added, nodding to Ardhuin.

Still, she had to be careful. “You haven’t explained why you were watching for us to leave,” Ardhuin said. “Or how you know who I am.”

Gutrune was silent for a moment. “I heard about what happened. I was also…made aware of certain plans regarding the Mage Guardian, and ordered to secretly assist her in any way possible,” she said quietly.

Ardhuin felt a small spark of hope. Gutrune von Kitren served the King directly. The King was only person who could order her to do anything. He knew—of course he knew. He was counting on her to uncover the plot, and even though he could not assist her openly, he didn’t expect her to do it on her own.

“I cannot be completely certain you are the Mage Guardian,” Gutrune continued, “but given your company, the circumstances, and the phenomenal illusion on Herr Asgaya, it seems a reasonable conclusion. Also,” she said, turning her head to give Dominic a small smile, “it is not usual for a man to attempt to assist another man into a carriage. Or for that assisted man to try to pick up his invisible skirts while doing so.”

“Oh dear.” She shouldn’t have said that, either. Brian would have cursed. “Blast.”

Dominic laughed. He seemed to be in a much better mood for some reason. “With all due respect, Fraülein von Kitren, your carriage is rather noticeable for errands of some subtlety. And you seem to be aware that we must avoid being noticed.”

“I have other, less elegant means of transportation I can place at your disposal, if you wish.” Gutrune looked at Ardhuin, inquiringly.

Ardhuin glanced at Dominic, who nodded after a brief hesitation, and then at Markus.

“I am resigned to death,” he said, sighing and throwing up his hands. “It only remains to choose the manner of my going. I do hope it isn’t a firing squad, though. It lacks style.”

Taking that as agreement, Ardhuin said, “We need to go to the Student Quarter.”