part, Shins was beginning to feel as though she had an equal amount of slowly uncrinkling paper in her stomach. “Spit it out, Paschal. Please.”
The guardsman sighed, and when he finally did look up at her again, she was somehow frightened by the sympathy in his expression. “‘In the name of Demas, justice, and the laws of Davillon,’” he said, clearly quoting, “‘the street thief known as Widdershins—real name unknown—is to be apprehended on sight, with all due force, on suspicion of having murdered Major Julien Bouniard of the Davillon City Guard.’”
She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. The room, the world, turned themselves over so completely that she might have fallen to the ceiling if she didn't keep a death grip on her chair.
“What?” When she finally squeaked it out, the voice wasn't her own. Only later did she realize it reminded her, more than anything else, of the girl she'd been ten years before.
“Widdershins—”
“How could you think that? How could anyone?”
“I don't think it!” he assured her. “But the order and the suspicion come from the top. Most of the Guard haven't heard the whole story of what happened in the graveyard that day, and it's not as if they'd likely believe it if they did.”
“But you were there! You could tell people what happened!”
“I didn't actually see any of it, remember? Julien had me standing watch at the gate. I only know what happened because you and the others told me—and if I hadn't already seen Iruoch in action, I'm not sure that I would have entirely believed it.”
Shins tucked her knees to her chest, her heels resting on the seat. “Gods. They think I…. Oh, gods…”
Paschal looked like he wanted to get up from behind the desk and do something to comfort her but hadn't the first idea what. It was so very like Julien that she almost broke into tears and a wide smile simultaneously.
“I'm not sure it would have mattered if I had been a witness,” he explained. “Commandant Archibeque seems quite certain of your guilt. If I could show any sort of genuine, hard evidence, that might change things but…” Even his helpless shrug somehow jostled one of the stacks, the papers idly threatening to topple.
“Olgun?” she whispered. “Do we know him?”
Nothing but puzzlement. Okay, so either this Archibeque really, truly believed, to his toes, that Shins was guilty of a crime that was nothing akin to her prior record, or…
“How honest is he?” she asked bluntly.
Paschal's brow furrowed. “Major—and then Commandant—Archibeque has been a fixture since before I joined the Guard. There is no one in this organization more trustworthy!”
Shins waited for more, then, “But?”
“What? What ‘but’? But what?”
“Wow. Everyone's starting to sound like me. Come on, Paschal, we both know what ‘but.’ It's the ‘but’ that you very, very loudly refrained from saying.”
The guardsman's scowl survived a moment longer, then faded. “How do you do that?”
“It's easy. After a lifetime of trusting nobody, you can just sense a but coming from a mile away.”
Other than the sound of Olgun nearly asphyxiating in hysterics somewhere in the back of her head, utter silence followed that pronouncement.
“I am going to pretend you found a better way to phrase that,” Paschal said finally.
“Would you?” she asked through a blush that would have been visible in the dark. “I would so appreciate it.”
“Commandant Archibeque,” he reluctantly continued, “hasn't been quite the same since his promotion. It's almost certainly just stress and adjusting to his new authority, mind you. But, while he was always stern, he's become excessively strict. And he's making a lot of pronouncements—such as your guilt—where proper investigative procedure would allow for suspicions and theories at most.
“I do not,” he added hastily, “believe it suggests any manner of corruption on the man's part.”
“No, I'm sure you're right,” Shins said, already running through various scenarios for finding out if he was wrong. “Thank you for talking to me, Paschal. I know you could get in real trouble.”
She stood, and he rose as well. “Was the right thing to do, and it's what Julien would have wanted of me. I hope you find whatever it is you need to find before…well, soon.”
“Yeah, me, too.”
“Do you need an escort out? Someone to make your presence appear legitimate?”
“Thank you, again, but no. I've got it.” She was already out the door, turning to shut it behind, when she paused. “Paschal? Things aren't really on the verge of open war on the city streets, right? Davillon hasn't gotten that out