Page 187 of Turncloak

Jebat turned in his chair to peer out over the skyline of Atherin, where life continued mostly as usual for its citizens—except, perhaps, for speculation over how an entire block of buildings had burned to ash, or why all the Bloodmoon-run gamehouses in the city had suddenly shuttered.

“We’re allocating extraordinary departmental resources into finding him, but since Karvas’s body was found down in Aredan…” Jebat sighed. “I’d imagine Celadon is tucked safely away in Mersina by now. And as we all know and despise…”

“Mersina does not have an extradition treaty with Vallin.”

A defeated nod. “Not for the Highcloak of Justice’s lack of trying. Perhaps a new Grand Arbiter might have more luck, but it could be many weeks or months before that high seat is filled.”

An interim Grand Arbiter had been instated, of course, but they wouldn’t be able to make any major moves or decisions.

Auria still could not quite decide how to feel about Dematus’s death. On the one hand, the Grand Arbiter had been corrupt, and the country was better off without such a rotten figurehead. On the other hand, a death was a death, a life was a life, and some things were not so clean-cut as lawful and right.

“So what else can we do? To bury the Bloodmoons for good?”

Jebat patted the frankly enormous stack of files on his desk, some so new the ink was barely dry. “Round up as many scarlets as we can. Many perished in the fire at the mansion, but many, many more escaped. It’s our job to find them, bring them in. Gather testimonies, evidence, so that when we finally rearrest Levan Celadon—which we will, if it’s the last gods-damned thing I do—there’s no way he’ll wriggle free of a conviction.”

Auria took a sip of almond-sweet coffee. “An enormous undertaking, rounding up hundreds of scattered scarlets.”

Jebat latched his gaze onto her. “Which is why I’ve created a new task force—and why I’d like you to lead it.”

Auria’s hand halted with the cup halfway back to her lips, suspending it stupidly by her chin. “But I’m—the inquest. My insubordination in the Lunes operation. Going behind Karvas’s back.”

She’d come here expecting to be placed back under suspension, not given the most important task force of the city’s recent history.

“There will be no inquest,” Jebat said calmly. “This just became war, and war calls for special measures.”

Auria struggled to make sense of this. “But…I’ve only worn silver for a year. I don’t have the experience to lead a task force, let alone—”

“You have one of the finest investigative minds I’ve ever encountered. Were it not for your own captain’s treachery, you would have secured an arrest and a charge many before you believed impossible.” Jebat’s gaze intensified. “You are brilliant, Marriosan, and brave, and determined. Integrity like no other mage I’ve known. There is no one else I would have lead this final charge against what remains of the Bloodmoons.”

Trying not to be ashamed of the warm tears that very quickly spilled down her cheeks, Auria smiled and nodded, thinking, I can’t wait to tell Nissa.

“Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.”

“You what?” Nissa sat bolt upright in the slouchiest sofa in the common room. Behind her hung a new set of navy-blue curtains, as though the kingpin had never broken into the Order and almost slain them both.

“I’m leading the Bloodmoon task force,” Auria repeated, still in a state of deep shock.

“Hells, Marriosan,” Nissa muttered, raking her clawed hand through the silken black sheets of her hair. “Talk about failing upwards.” For a moment, Auria thought her colleague might resent this development, but then the dragonborn broke into a feral grin. “That’s fucking fantastic.”

Some of the tension in Auria’s chest eased, and she allowed herself to match Nissa’s smile with her own. It felt wrong when so many were hurt or dead, but for the first time in weeks, months—since before Tiernan died—Auria felt some of her old optimism return.

Karvas and Dematus were gone, could no longer crush any significant developments beneath their corrupt boots. They finally had Bloodmoon arrest warrants coming out of their ears, and while their targets had scattered and the kingpin might be beyond legal reproach, it finally felt like they could win this thing.

And Saffron…well, Auria had to figure out what to do about her old friend. Perhaps she could convince her to change her mind. Now that the kingpin had fled without her, had made no attempt to rescue her from death row, her loyalties might not be quite as staunch.

After months of grief weighing her down, Auria once again believed that in the great arc of humanity, goodness would always win.

“Thank you,” she whispered to Nissa, and then the tears fell once more.

“No, none of that,” Nissa said tersely, slapping her thighs and climbing to her feet. “We’re going out to celebrate. Jaded Saint? First flamebrandies on me.”

Auria laughed and nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude for this unlikeliest of friendships.

“Oh, this came for you, by the way.” Nissa rifled in the papers that had spilled over the couch when she leapt up, tossed Auria a parchment letter, then headed in the direction of her own bedroom to freshen up.

Frowning—for she rarely received correspondence to the Order directly—Auria tore into the envelope, hands trembling as though her body knew before her mind did that this was not the sort of letter she’d ever wanted to receive.

Detective Marriosan,