turned him around. The room was ablaze with censoring texts. There must have been seven sentinels in the room.
“Amadi,” he said coolly, “I hope you can justify this breach of law and custom.”
“Magister,” she replied from somewhere to his left, “I’m afraid I can.”
He looked in her direction. “And how is that?”
She told him about the bookworm infection and the private library filled with incriminating manuscripts. She then explained about a wounded construct that had been trying to return to his quarters.
“You think I would be foolish enough to write a curse that would return to my own quarters?” he asked incredulously.
A different voice responded. It took a moment for Shannon to recognize it as Kale’s. “The chances of the bookworm being wounded in just that way—losing its ability to subtextualize and its homing protocol—are very slight. You could have safely assumed you would never be identified. But unfortunately, Magister, chance conspired against you.”
Shannon snorted. “Or the true villain has fooled you into accusing me of his crimes.”
Amadi responded dryly. “We’ve searched your quarters more thoroughly than before. We swept the room for subtexts.”
Kale spoke. “We found a subtextualized chest strapped to your ceiling. It holds a fortune in Spirish gold.”
For a moment Shannon could not understand what he was hearing. How could the golem have gotten that much coin into his room? The thing couldn’t spellwrite within Starhaven’s walls.
“So who was it, Magister?” Kale asked. “What Spirish noble was paying you to disrupt this convocation and why?”
“Amadi, you’re making a grave error,” Shannon said hoarsely.
His former student let a moment pass before replying. “Did you know that Nora Finn was also taking bribes from a Spirish noble?”
He nodded. “I read of it in her journal.”
“Why did you not tell me?” Amadi asked.
Shannon scowled. “Because I was more concerned with convincing you of the true villain’s existence.”
Amadi let another silent moment pass. “Or perhaps you were glad to be free of a competing spy. Tell me, Magister, how did the Spirish gold come to be in your quarters?”
“It was put there.”
“By your clay monster? Impossible. As I told you: I had a sentinel watching your quarters. What’s more, all the doors and windows were warded and then protected by robust, bisecting texts. Even if your monster did sneak past my guards, the thing would have been cut in half at the waist. It would have had to hide the chest and escape with half a body.”
Shannon’s blind eyes widened. A clay golem could do just such a thing. “Amadi!” he blurted. “The thing must have done its spellwriting in the Bolide Garden and then used prewritten texts to sneak in and hide the chest. Search the surrounding area. Somewhere you’ll find a deposit of clay.”
“Magister,” Amadi said in a low tone, “the Bolide Gardens are being renovated. Do you want me to slop through all that mud for a lump of clay that looks like a monster?”
Shannon took a deep breath. The monster had planned well. After planting the research journal in his quarters, it must have thrown itself down into the garden. There the golem could have deconstructed amid the dirt piles.
But Shannon couldn’t convince Amadi of that. Not here at least. “So you suspect I’m a spy,” he said, changing tactics. “Do you also believe I killed Eric and Adan, my own students?”
The room grew quiet. “Some remember how vicious a politician you were back in Astrophell; more than one voice has suggested that—”
“That I murdered my own students to disrupt this convocation?” Shannon growled. “That I sold my soul to some illiterate lord? Amadi, I have never heard such a foul suggestion. And I’ll swear under any power you like that I—”
“The witch trial hasn’t begun yet,” her cold voice interrupted. “Do nothing rash. In this room stands every free sentinel under my command.”
Shannon began to respond but then stopped. “You mean, every sentinel but those you sent to guard the Drum Tower and Nicodemus?”
“Still trying to convince me that the clay man is after your cacographers?” Amadi asked. “I think you’d better hold your tongue, Magister. We have wards on the tower’s doors and windows. No one’s getting to a cacographer tonight. Besides, I couldn’t spare the spellwrights to guard the place if my life depended on it. The libraries need every free author to contain the bookworm infection. Unless of course, you can tell us how to eradicate the infestation?”
“I have nothing to do with the bookworms!” Shannon exclaimed. “You can’t leave the Drum Tower