Powers of Detection

Gwy

She saw the Maestro nod to Radolphus. Then he pulled up the collar of his smoking jacket and shivered.

“Of course Master Justinian will come and deal with the problem,” Radolphus said.

“Oh, and the duke says while you’re at it, you should fix the castle warding spell,” Reg added.

“What’s wrong with it?” Radolphus asked.

“Stopped working,” Reg said, with a shrug. “At least, stopped working reliably. Goes off when there’s nothing in range then doesn’t do a thing when a bunch of Gypsies wander right through the portcullis. He’s pretty worked up about it.”

“He could hire some guards,” Justinian said.

“He has guards,” Reg said. “He wants a warding spell. He’s begi

Gwy

“Of course Master Justinian will investigate the problem with the castle warding spell as well,” Master Radolphus said. “Why don’t you come with me and take some refreshment while Master Justinian is packing.”

Reg pried himself away from the hearth, stuck his hands in his pockets, and ambled out. Justinian reclaimed his chair with an injured air.

“I’m sorry, Jus,” Radolphus said, pausing in the doorway. “Pack so you can stay a few days if need be.”

Actually, Gwy

It was midnight by the time they set out, and the six-hour trip seemed interminable, despite the relative luxury of the duke’s coach. Largely, Gwy

The Maestro put on his most gracious ma

“At least we’ll have a good breakfast,” he murmured to Gwy

“Finally,” the duke said, dashing into the hall. “Let’s get straight to work. Reg, go have the kitchen fix a couple of cold plates and bring them down to the dungeons.”

Justinian sighed and followed the duke’s stout figure down a forebodingly long, steep stairway. Gwy

They finally entered a large, low-ceilinged room with a straw-covered floor. A dozen soldiers stood inside, and even in the flickering torchlight Gwy

“There’s the blighter,” the duke said, pointing.

Gwy

Wait-the blood was still wet. Should it be, after the half day it had taken for Reg to fetch them?

Justinian stepped over to the body and examined it briefly, glancing once or twice with irritation at the torches. Was he a

A figure stepped out of the shadows to the Maestro’s side. From his worn black robe, Gwy

“So, what have we here?” Justinian asked.

“Dead prisoner,” the magician said. He was a thin, balding man with a look of habitual anxiety etched into his sharp features. “I cast a stasis spell on the body, soon as I could, so you could see it as near as possible to how I found it.”

“Stasis spell?” the duke shouted. “I authorized no spells! There’s been enough magical skullduggery already!”

“But surely your grace ordered him to preserve the evidence as well as possible for my arrival,” Justinian said. “That’s what a stasis spell does. It’s a lot like what happens when something’s frozen. But frozen in time instead of temperature.”

“Ah,” the duke said. “I see.”

He still looked baffled, but apparently decided to let the matter drop.

The stasis spell, Gwy

“So, tell me the features of the case,” Justinian said.

As he and the castle mage talked, Gwy

And she was glad it wasn’t her job to figure out what had happened. The evidence was sparse. In fact, apart from the blood-smeared body of the dead anarchist, nonexistent. His live confederate, still chained to the opposite wall, tried to look fierce, and occasionally muttered under his breath about damned u

“Filthy black magic,” the surviving anarchist muttered, when Justinian and the castle mage had confirmed this.

“Fascinating,” Justinian murmured, as he examined the doublet.

He gestured and murmured a few words. Gwy

Justinian paused as if listening to a sound inaudible to the rest of them, then looked around with unfocused eyes.