Any Other Name (The Split Worlds) - By Emma Newman Page 0,4
all died from the same cause: their hearts were turned to stone.”
Ekstrand’s cake didn’t reach his mouth. “I beg your pardon?”
“The hearts were literally turned to stone. We carried out ten autopsies including the two Arbiters, the Chapter Master and three of the people who had thorns growing out of them, plus four selected at random. Previous to the… incident all were in good health. They were taken from different parts of the cloister, so I think it’s a reasonable assumption that everyone died from the same… ailment.”
Ekstrand rested the fork and its morsel of cake back on his plate. “Maximilian thinks the mutual murders were staged. Would you agree with that?”
She nodded. “Yes. No one was strangled, and the angles of the knife wounds and the force applied don’t match up with the people who were supposed to look like the assailants. I’ll compile the details of those observations in my report. I believe they collapsed when their hearts were changed. They would have had a very short period of consciousness, whilst the blood in their brains was oxygenated, but then they would have died in a manner similar to a person having a heart attack. I can’t imagine how it must have felt.” Her voice wavered and she cleared her throat. “That’s speculation, of course.”
“This is most disturbing.” Ekstrand picked up the fork again. “Do you think they all died at the same time?”
“As far as I can tell, yes. It’s not possible to work out exactly when. It would explain why no one raised the alarm.”
“What in the Worlds could change their hearts to stone?” Ekstrand wondered aloud.
“It doesn’t sound like Fae magic,” Max said.
“This is unlike anything the Fae would be able to do, even if they wanted to,” Ekstrand replied. “I thought the Rose magic picked up by the Sniffer was a causal factor. Now I’m not sure. Perhaps it just grew the thorns.”
“It seems a seed was forced down their throats after death and then grown, rather than a stem being forced in to choke the individual,” Petra said.
“Hardly justifies the amount of Rose magic detected,” Ekstrand muttered.
“Could a Sorcerer do it?” Max asked the question, seeing it as another tick in the column under “Sorcerer of Essex corrupt”.
“No,” Ekstrand replied without hesitation. “It’s simply impossible.”
“Couldn’t a formula be written on the building and affect everything within it?”
“Maximillian,” Ekstrand said, “your skills, whilst admirable, do not extend to sorcery. Formulae require exact definition of variables and parameters. Each person’s heart would have subtle differences making it impossible to work one formula that could affect every single person’s heart at exactly the same time.”
“Even if it were defined by the common variables?” Petra asked. “Couldn’t all of the hearts be expressed as the organ that pumps blood with four chambers, four valves–”
Ekstrand shook his head. “Far too vague. This is simply an impossible thing to achieve with either Fae or sorcerous magic. It is truly inexplicable.”
“We’ll carry on investigating,” Petra said. “There must be a critical piece of information we’re missing.”
Ekstrand nodded. “We need to be thorough, that much is true. Every single body needs to be autopsied and tested for any other trace magic. I’d also like to have a go at one myself. It is Thursday after all.”
Petra fidgeted. “I’m not sure this is the best time, Mr Ekstrand. There’s so much to do. I can refer you to an excellent book on pathology.”
“Jolly good.” Ekstrand smiled and finally took a bite of the cake. “Excellent, Axon, excellent. Not too sweet, just enough tang to the lemon.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“The only clear lead we have is the Rose magic,” Ekstrand said. “No one could replicate that residue.”
“Perhaps a Sorcerer could,” Max said. “It all points to the Sorcerer Guardian of Essex. The corruption is in his territory, and when–”
“Remind me about what happened in London,” Ekstrand said, sliding a second slice of cake onto his plate.
“I was shot whilst collecting evidence sir. They were turning a blind eye to kidnapping an innocent in broad daylight.”
“Ah, that’s how your leg got broken and your soul ended up in the gargoyle, yes, I recall it now. And they knew you had a deep connection open and the Chapter Master could see what you were witnessing, am I right?”
“Yes, sir, which is why I think the Sorcerer of Essex is responsible. To cover it up.”
Ekstrand shook his head. “It makes no sense. Why make it look like the Roses are involved?”