as another rumor, one up there with tales of Monpress’s ability to turn invisible. That said, to see it in action himself, in his fortress, was a well-deserved lesson in making assumptions.
Even now, minutes after the initial wave, the demon panic was still flooding through the air. The shouts of people outside echoed down the shaking halls, tiny and distant under the rumbling of the terrified stone. The duke ignored them. He simply waited, patiently, with his hands crossed behind his back. The moment the demon panic began to ebb, he opened his spirit.
At once, every stone was still. The duke’s will filled the castle, crushing all resistance, stomping down on fear. He laid his hands firmly on the wall beside him, feeling every stone in the castle as they lay subservient before him. Only then, when he was certain he had every pebble in the citadel’s full attention, did he give his command.
“Clean yourself up.”
The fortress obeyed. Stones jumped off the floor and refitted themselves into place. Cracks mended themselves, and he felt the citadel groan and shake as the collapsed northern corner shuddered and then rebuilt itself. When the duke lifted his hand from the stone, there was no sign there had been a panic at all. Even the scuff marks on the stone from Josef’s fight with the soldiers were gone.
The duke shook his hands with a sigh and turned to face his gawking officers, who’d come running in the moment the citadel stopped moving.
“It’s a miracle,” one of the young guards whispered.
“No,” the duke said. “It’s business as usual.” He glared at the soldier. “I’m not just some wizard, boy. I’m the Duke of Gaol. Everything here is mine to command, the stones, the water, the winds, and you. Don’t ever forget that. Now”—he pointed at one of his officers—“you, take your men and get the courtyard under control. I want the conscripts back in position by the river and everyone else in their houses. Full lockdown. I don’t want to see so much as a stray cat on the streets, understand?”
“Sir!” The officer saluted and motioned his men down the tunnel.
Edward looked over the remaining soldiers. “The rest of you, stand by. I have one final problem to attend to, and then”—he smiled—“we’re going thief hunting.”
The soldiers saluted and stood at attention. Satisfied, Edward turned back toward his treasury. Out of everything in the castle, only the treasury door remained out of place. It alone was still bashed and dirty, and still stubbornly closed. The duke walked forward slowly, deliberately, letting his open spirit go ahead of him as a warning, but the door did not move.
“Why?” the duke asked softly. “Why so willfully disobedient?”
“I can’t help it, my lord,” the door shuddered. “She ordered me closed. I must obey.”
The duke leaned in, his voice very low and very cold. “Whatever Monpress’s girl can threaten is nothing compared to what I’m about to do to you if you do not open.”
The door gave a terrified squeak and began to thrash in its track, but no matter how it fought, it could not roll back.
“Please, my lord,” it panted. “Mercy! She struck something deep, I’m afraid. A strange mix of demon fear and wizardry. I’ve never felt anything like it! Please, just give me a few minutes to overcome the fear and I swear I’ll obey. I beg you, my lord!”
The duke waved his hand. “Time is a luxury I do not have.” He glared at the stones on either side of the door. “If you cannot open, then I’ll find something that will.”
He snapped his fingers at the wall beside the door, and all at once, the mortar began to crumble. Stones popped themselves out of their sockets and landed in a neat pile on the floor. Robbed of its support, the door began to wobble. Duke Edward stepped back and motioned for the blocks to keep coming. The door held out for an impressively long time, but soon, as more and more of its supporting structure was removed, not even its will was enough to stand against gravity. It fell with a long, tragic cry, crashing to the floor in an enormous cloud of dust.
The duke turned to his soldiers. “Get some rope and take this hunk of metal outside. Set it up at the center of the square where the rain can hit it. We’ll see what a few years of rust can do for its temperament.”
The soldiers, spirit deaf and not quite