understanding what was going on, ran to obey him. At his feet, the door began to sob, a terrible, squealing metal sound, and something made a little crackling noise at the duke’s elbow. Edward looked over and saw his fire, the fire that connected all the hearths in the citadel, flickering hesitantly.
“My lord,” it crackled. “Don’t you think that’s a little harsh? He was wounded by a demon, and—”
“Would you like to join him out in the yard?” the duke snapped.
“No, sir,” the fire answered immediately.
“Then don’t say another word.” The duke straightened up, watching as the soldiers came back with the rope and began looping it around the heavy door.
“If it can’t serve as a door,” the duke said, “then it can at least serve as an example. Disobedience will not be tolerated.”
“Yes, sir,” the fire whispered again, but the duke was already off, walking over the poor sobbing door and into his empty treasury.
The cracks and broken stone had been repaired here as everywhere, but the shelves were still in disarray. He put them back with an impatient wave of his hand, noting that the false Lion of Ser and a few of the other cheap pieces were still in place. There was, however, no sign of the thief’s escape. Duke Edward walked in a slow circle, scanning the wall, running things over in his mind, but he got no further than he had this morning when he’d first investigated the crime scene. He’d been sure before, but he was now positive that the first robbery had not been Eli’s work. So why had Eli come?
Pride was the obvious answer. Monpress was a prideful man. He might have come looking for clues as to who would impersonate him. Yet that seemed too simple an explanation. If his studies had taught him anything, it was that Monpress never did anything simply. Also, it was too fast. The robbery had only happened this morning, which meant Monpress must have already been in town. That made him smile. His bait had worked. At least that part of the plan had stayed on track. His smile faded, someone had sprung the trap early, and he meant to find out who. Still, today’s events had convinced him that the situation was salvageable. Monpress was in town. He’d probably been planning his own heist when he heard about the impostor and came to investigate. That certainly matched what he knew of Monpress, but still, something was off.
Edward walked in a slow circle around the room. Eli’s exit bothered him. The thief was known for his flash, and the demon trick with the door had certainly been flashy, but after that, nothing. He’d vanished just as smoothly as the thief last night. He briefly entertained the idea that the two thieves might be in league, but he dismissed it almost as quickly. Monpress wasn’t the kind to share glory.
He was still walking and thinking when he spotted something white on the floor. He stooped to pick it up, turning it over in his hand. It was a card, marked the same as all his others, with the fine, cursive M. Smiling, Edward slid the card into his coat pocket. Cocky to the last, that was Eli. He couldn’t bear to leave any credit unclaimed. But as he straightened up, his eyes caught something else out of place. There, straight ahead, the wall was uneven.
Edward stared at it. He’d ordered all the bricks to square themselves when he’d righted the citadel. Was this more disobedience or just simple incompetence? He stepped in for a closer look, brushing the crooked stones with his fingers. As he touched the smooth cut surface, his eyes widened, and several mysteries clicked into place.
Othril blew in through the front door of the citadel, pausing to stare at the sobbing bulk of the treasury door as the guards struggled in teams of twenty to drag it down the steps. After a moment of gawking, the wind hurried on. It was best not to question things like that, and he had news for the duke that could not wait.
He found the duke in the treasury, which wasn’t surprising, staring at the wall, which was. Othril circled uncertainly overhead. Interrupting the duke while he was working was never something that ended well, but neither was withholding a time-sensitive report. He was still warring between those two bad choices when the duke made the decision for him.
“Othril,” he said, pointing at the square of wall