Point of Hopes

And probably a way to get you away from Adriana, Rathe thought. He said, “So you’ve been telling the chief all about it, then?”

“Well, b’Estorr has, more like,” Eslingen answered, and Rathe realized that the necromancer was standing just inside the station, a large pitcher in his hand. “I’m still not fully sure what happened.”

Rathe gri

“Most of them, anyway,” Monteia answered, and looked around the yard. “Come inside, it’s quieter there.”

It was darker, too, and Rathe settled himself on the edge of the duty desk with a sigh of relief. It was good to be back–good to be home, he amended, and couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

“Between us, Claes and I and Manufactory made points on six of the astrologers,” Monteia went on. “There were a couple more, but they seem to have gotten away, more’s the pity. The thing is, they say they were hired to find the children by a woman called Domalein.”

“Savine Domalein?” Rathe asked, and Monteia nodded.

“Known to us, certainly.”

“Not to me,” Eslingen said.

Rathe gri

“Domalein told them she wanted the kids for ru

b’Estorr shrugged, set his pitcher aside. “It would be hard to prove they didn’t know, but they had to suspect something. The stars–there weren’t enough patterns in the horoscopes to make that work, if you ask me.”

“And I’d take it kindly if you’d tell that to the surintendant,” Monteia answered. “He can tell you who to talk to in the judiciary.”

“Looking for a conviction, Chief Point?” the necromancer asked

“Oh, yes,” Monteia answered, and Rathe cut in hastily.

“What happened to Domalein?”

Monteia made a face. “Gone. Probably got out as soon as she heard we were looking for the astrologers, but at least we got to go through her house pretty thoroughly. She left in a hurry, didn’t even stop to burn her papers, and we found plenty of letters from your Maseigne de Mailhac. She was paying for the whole thing, from the printers to the astrologers, and paying handsomely, too.”

“Except that Timenard had something else in mind,” Rathe said suddenly sobered again. He was himself something of a Leveller by heritage and temperament, and Timenard had tried to draw on that, paint a vision of a world without queen or seigneury. An attractive thought, for a southriver rat, except that it would have been Timenard and only Timenard who ruled in their place.

b’Estorr touched him lightly on the shoulder. “It’s a matter of balance, Nico. You can’t compel the stars, not in the long run, no matter how much aurichalcum you have. He could have made things very difficult for a while, very painful, but in the long run, the natural order reasserts itself. We were its agents this time.”

“Personally,” Eslingen said, “I’d be happier without that sort of favor.”

Rathe smiled again, made himself relax. He heard the tower clock strike, and then, a heartbeat later, the case‑clock on the wall echoed it, beating out the hour. The true sun was sinking toward the horizon, the winter‑sun still high in the sky, and he allowed himself a long sigh, tasting the familiar summer smells. He was home, the children were home and safe, and that was the end of it. He looked around, and Eslingen put a cool mug in his hand.

“Drink up,” he said, and Rathe laughed, and let himself be led away to join the celebration.