本文首发于2024年1月9日，译文发布于2024年1月9日

By Seanan McGuire

那件事之后，宴会也差不多结束了。

整体而言，将艾庄塔移出卡洛夫庄园没花多少时间。其长度足以让每个人看见发生了什么事；足以让多位瑟雷尼亚盟会成员接近泰莎，近乎发狂地向她表明艾庄塔并非他们的一员，他们没有偷带她进入宴会，这不是他们做的，而且他们就跟其他人一样被背叛了！或许还不及洁加娜，她已不会再被任何人背叛，但就跟泰莎一样，就跟魔调局一样，就跟任何无辜的人一样被背叛了。

泰莎的结界本该阻止任何人离开：卡洛夫庄园并非欧佐夫的权力中心，但它却是她的权力中心，而在此，她说的话就是绝对的法律。不过当俄佐立法师押着艾庄塔走向大门并把她拉出去时，并没有任何事物拦阻他们；没有其他底密尔会堂成员现身要求释放他们的其中一员。

在处理衣帽间事件期间，卡娅原本认为泰莎不见踪影。那名女子以手杖敲击庭院石地的声音是唯一能证明她错了的证据，而且要不是她如此熟悉那个声音，她原本会在逐渐增强的喧闹声中错过它。每个人都想知道发生什么事。每个人都想知道为何一个底密尔杀手会让泰莎的宠物鹏洛客在一场庆典中欢乐地追逐，而她竟然打扮成一个瑟雷尼亚盟会成员！还闯入波费那荒谬的魔法中！以前只有少数魔调局成员见过它运作，而正当他们暗自欣喜他是如何优雅地将它应用于手边的任务时，剩余的俄佐立成员看似更恼火了。

卡娅认为那一点也不意外。在波费选择离开并加入魔调局发挥他的才能之前，他一直都是俄佐立的资产，而且根据她对公会的了解，他们并不喜欢失去资源。尤其是这些日子，每个人都像以前一样行事露骨。

随着泰莎走向卡娅右侧，一边将重量靠在手杖上，卡娅也抗拒着望向她的冲动。今晚已让她感到疲惫不堪。

「你让他们离开了，」卡娅说。

「跟随我们在魔调局的伙伴进入侦查的领域？」泰莎问道。「当他们在逮补一个杀手时，囚禁另一个公会的成员看似相当不明智。它们是我的。我可以为了我喜欢的任何人解开它们。如果你试着跟他们走，我也会为你解开结界。」

「没得到我的同意，你不能把我关在这里。」

「不能。我想我永远无法把你关在这里，对吧？在我们所有人之中，就只有你能够 …转身离去，随时随地。」泰莎的表情变得严肃。

卡娅设法不畏缩。不知何故，虽然完全没提及他们的名字，但泰莎却召现了杰斯与瓦丝卡的阴魂，那两个已离开拉尼卡的人。那两个不曾归返的人。

那两个永远不会回来的人。

她在做什么？她已不再属于这里。她或许会说同样的话，但泰莎却直视着她，眼里浮现心碎的阴影，并说道，「我很感激你留下来。」

「我说过我会留下来，」卡娅说道，一边把视线移开。「凡妮法还好吗？」

「饱受惊吓，但已逐渐复原，」泰莎说。「她已经历哀伤的阶段，并开始感到愤怒。我不会想成为犯下这件罪行的人。他们很可能发现整个析米克公会的重量砸在自己身上，而且无人能够改变凡妮法的愤怒。她和洁加娜为了析米克联合的未来针锋相对，但以她们的方式，她们也称得上姐妹。那里存在着深刻的羁绊与忠诚。凡妮法不会坐视不管。」

「对，我无法想象她袖手旁观。你之前想跟我谈什么？」

泰莎犹豫了，同时瞥了一眼她们周遭乱哄哄的与会者，即使他们已重新聚集并开始朝出口移动。有些人朝庄园走去，而其他人则朝大门走去，端看他们是否遗留了任何东西在屋内。卡娅发现自己有点无用地想着魔调局打算如何处置洁加娜尸体下方的那些外套。

站在附近用令人沮丧的敏锐目光观察整场互动，波费显然也有同样的想法。他挺直身体并急忙返回庄园，独留泰莎和卡娅站在逐渐变少的人群中。

「到了早上这个消息就会传遍各地，」泰莎苦涩地说。「『前来庆祝众公会保护我们所有人的伟大成就，却看着他们保护不了自己的一员。』」

「我相信人们会理解这不是你的错，」

泰莎以锋利的目光看了她一眼。「你很清楚他们会怎么说。」

她确实清楚。不过，她还是抱持希望。希望战争的伤口正在愈合；希望拉尼卡的旧伤也能同时愈合。如果条件正确，有时撕裂的疤痕组织或许能愈合成某种比新伤更洁净的东西。或许条件对了。

「之前在阳台上，你想对我说某件事，」卡娅说。「或是告诉我某件事。你现在能告诉我吗？」

泰莎叹了一口气。「待得够久让消息爆发，确保这波回响不会把我们打垮，然后我就会联络你，」她说。「我确实想要告诉你，只不过 …时机不对。」

卡娅仔细地看着她。她看似相当真诚。泰莎是天生的政客，但即使政客也有他们脆弱的时刻。

「三天，」她终于说道。「到时，如果你没联络我，我就会来找你。」

「一言为定，」泰莎说。

三天平稳地过去。卡娅回到她租的房间，拒绝了泰莎提供的庄园客房，而泰莎－或许了解继续坚持下去更会让卡娅离开这个时空－也不再提这件事。白天的时候，她在街上闲晃，享受拉尼卡街头小吃的熟悉滋味以及掺了奶油和熏衣草蜂蜜的浓烈咖啡，一边听那些不够了解她而不知该闭嘴的人们嚼舌根。

流言在街上盘旋，它们是尖刻、不停扭动的东西，具有可以撕咬的尖牙利齿。他们说，那场欧佐夫派对发生一桩窃案；某个公会成员失去一件珍贵的传家宝并且要等到它被找回才会消气。发生一场叛变行动。有一件婚外情被揭发。各式各样的犯罪显然都发生在卡洛夫庄园的土地上，又因为魔调局和俄佐立成员都在场，于是这两组人都受到不寻常的鄙视。

任何当天有出席的人都被一连串奉承以及央求透露更多信息的甜言蜜语包围。大部分的人缺乏真正可分享的闲话，于是便编造出愈来愈多稀奇古怪的故事，并知道无人能反驳它们。卡娅听了所有故事，皱起眉头，然后什么话也没说。现在她最好别引起任何关注。

因为他们并不只是谈论那场派对的事，尽管那是最近期的一件光荣丑闻，而且比起战争的伤口较不疼痛。他们谈到非瑞克西亚入侵以及鹏洛客们是如何辜负他们所有人。多年来安全地认为一般人对鹏洛客没有概念因此无法对他们做出评论，卡娅此刻面对的现实却是每个人都知道，而且几乎每个人都不赞同。

在第三天早上，当她几乎放松心情时，一位来自魔调局的信使找上她，这足以令人感到不适。她待在一间狭小的咖啡店内，一边听着晨间新闻。「谋杀」这个词终于开始传播。那件事－加上析米克联合的成员异常稀少－已引起关注，并将闲聊话题从他们那持续不断的战争讨论中抽离。

「女士？」信使说道，同时停在数英尺远之外，在等待打招呼的同时浑身颤抖着。

卡娅意犹未尽地啜了最后一口咖啡，接着便转向他，并在看见他的脸孔时不停眨眼。「凯澜 …探员？他们为什么派你来？」

「你在期待魔调局派某个人来吗？」凯澜问道，一边诚恳地眨眼。

「我认为他们可能会，所以我一直待在容易找到我的地方，」卡娅说道。她起身，遗憾地留下喝了一半的咖啡。「我以为波费侦探会想跟我聊聊发生了什么事？」

只要一提到魔调局，她实在太清楚会有多少人朝她的方向竖起耳朵，希望能听见一些辛辣的信息。

「其实，不，」凯澜说。「他不想在非必要的时候和其他人分享他的想法。不，想跟你谈话的人是局长。」

卡娅在脱口说出「伊泽霖？」之前忍住了。就让流言好奇久一点吧。她反而点了点头并示意凯澜跟随她走出店铺。

等他们一来到街上，而且已不是好管闲事者的明显目标后，她便问道，「你为什么自己来？他们才刚表扬过你的服务；你的位阶应该比跑腿员高吧。」

「噢，」凯澜说。「是我要求他们派我来的。」

「什么？为什么？」

「我想和你谈话。」

卡娅眨了眨眼，不确定该做何反应。凯澜开始朝魔调局总部走去，而她也自动跟随，依然试着处理她的想法。

「为什么？」她终于发问。

「我读过你的档案。你不是来自这里。」他挥动一只手，比向他们周围的城市。「我指的是拉尼卡。你来自更遥远的某个地方。」

「你可以说『鹏洛客』，你知道的。那不是个脏话，」卡娅说。

凯澜看起来有点尴尬。「抱歉。没错。你是一个鹏洛客。」

「我的父亲也是。我希望你或许 …我想你或许知道他在哪里。」

卡娅停下脚步。凯澜继续往前走了几步才注意到并转向她。

「怎么了？」他问道。

「你的父亲也是－你的父亲是谁？」拜托别让他说出一个我认识的名字，她默默地补充道。拜托，如果黑暗虚空还存有任何怜悯的话，他就不会说出其中一位死者的名字。

「他的名字叫瓯柯，」他说。「他是仙儿的一员。」

那么，是个陌生人。「抱歉。我不认识他。」

即使她彻底松了一口气，她也能看见他眼中的失望。

「你是第二个这么对我说的鹏洛客。我想－这个嘛，魔调局拥有各种信息。如果他曾经来过这里，我想他们或许知道某些事。」

「然后一无所获吗？」

凯澜只是摇了摇头。「建文件系统非常 …复杂。」

「继续寻找，好吗，孩子？如果我遇见他，我会告诉他你正试着寻找他，」卡娅说。

凯澜给了她一个虚弱的歪嘴笑容。「谢谢你，」他说。「那对我很重要。」

魔调局总部那悬浮且棱角分明的外型耸现于他们面前。水流从基部倾泻而下，落入被设计来避免让街道淹水的渠道中。魔调局的坐骑已准备就绪，持续上下运送探员。凯澜带领卡娅穿过排队的人群，走上大门，穿过安检站，并护送她经过长廊前往伊泽霖的办公室，然后他说「等你和老板谈完后再见」便留下她一人。

卡娅犹豫了，一边看着紧闭的门。等待并不会让这件事更快发生，因此，她战战兢兢地举起手敲门。

「请进，」里面传来伊泽霖的低沉声音。

懒得先把门打开，卡娅深吸一口气便穿门而过。

伊泽霖的办公室是为了他那一直存在的伙伴而设计的。除了一张巨型办公桌以及几张供访客使用的传统座椅，大约后三分之一的空间被改建为某种近似于马厩的结构，地板上摆着稻草，其上方的一堆枕头则形成了某种躺椅。并不是说伊泽霖目前正懒洋洋地坐卧着；这位伟大的统领正坐在坐骑背上，扭身面向办公桌，一边整理一叠文件。卡娅才刚发现自己并不清楚拉尼卡的统领是个单一连体生物，还是选择无论如何都永不分开的一对个体。她从未见过伊泽霖爬下坐骑，也没见过任何拉尼卡统领在战斗中从坐骑上被击落。如果他们是一个生物，那么这间办公室就是一种实际需求的象征，而非体贴的象征。

「局长，你想见我？」她问道，一边把双手交叠于背后立正站好。

「对，」伊泽霖说，然后陷入沉默。卡娅意识到随之而来的沉默是要她说话的提示，于是她便稍微站得更挺并且什么也没说。当有人想见她时她乐意前来，但那并不表示她替伊泽霖工作。严格来说，她不欠他任何东西。如果他想要她说话，他可以问她问题。

在经过足以让这段沉默变得令人不自在的时间后，伊泽霖清了清喉咙说道，「你不是魔调局的成员。」

「对，局长。」

「但你是个知名的麻烦解决者。欧佐夫对你解决问题的能力总是持有高度评价。」

不知何故，她怀疑那句话里的「总是」。卡娅浅浅一笑说道，「谢谢你，局长。」

「因你作为前任公会长的身份，众公会在此情况下将你视为主要中立。你和析米克联合以及底密尔会堂之间并无明显夙怨。」

「没有，局长。我和这两个公会处得相当好。」

「泰莎邀请我们两人前往那场派对以借给我们她必须提供的合法性。我，身为魔调局局长，而你是一位前任公会长 …也是个鹏洛客。你知道目前拉尼卡对你们这类人的观感并不好。我相信就连查雷克公会长最近也遭遇了问题。」

「我知道，局长，」卡娅说。

「我想让你主导这场调查行动。你能够获取任何所需的资源，包括我的职员，而且我相信你需要施加某种压力将波费侦探移出这个案件。一但他产生兴趣，他就不会放弃一个难题。虽然杀手艾庄塔已被拘禁，但我们还不知道下令行刺的人是谁，或是其原因，而且她依然坚称自己对犯行毫无印象。」

卡娅不发一语。只有这一次，伊泽霖没让停顿延伸。

「你的中立是假定的。你的参与只能帮忙挽回众人对鹏洛客的看法：当我们最需他们时却无法拯救我们。」

「不要。」

「抱歉，什么？」

「不要。那是一个完整的句子，而且你知道它的意思。不要，我不会帮你办这件事。我已经做得够多了。感谢你为我的名声担心。」她转身并跨步走出办公室，再次没把门打开。伊泽霖没有挽留她。

凯澜离开了，或许正在这栋建筑的某处执行他真正的工作，但随着她昂首沿着长廊返回门口，将他们的沉默与不想要的请求抛诸脑后，她也感觉到魔调局里的每一只眼睛都在盯着她看。

她愈早离开拉尼卡愈好。

魔调局的成立是为了调查犯罪，并且不让与公会相关的偏见影响其发现。罪犯们－无论已证实或强烈怀疑－会被押回俄佐立参议院且于适当条件下拘禁。

随着波费站在一旁等候看门的俄佐立律法师完成检查他的文件并让他通过，他忍不住后悔起自己也花了许多年做同样的事。

「一切看似合乎程序，」律法师终于说道。已有三道守卫仔细检查过波费的文件，无人发现任何问题。至少这一位才刚加入公会，因此与他的任期没有重叠。那些还记得他穿着他们自身颜色服装的人总是更令人难以忍受，尤其当他们自认为他正在乞求他们让他通过的时候。「你可以进去了。」

门锁随着咒法师的话语解开，接着波费点了点头，并取回他的文件。「出色的工作表现，」他说道，同时在他踏入位于他和目的地之间的最终长廊时设法克制自己的语气。

艾庄塔的牢房是这区唯一一个被使用的，使她被彻底隔离，除了她的守卫们，而他们也不太可能与她尽情交谈。她抬起头看着波费走近，放弃了看似正专注地凝视着一只蜘蛛爬过墙面的举动。

「沉浸在同病相怜中吗？」他问道。

「那只蜘蛛和我，我们一点也不像，」她说。「它随时都可离开。没人为了它依循自身天性而惩罚它。没人囚禁它。它随心所欲，而且总是如此。」

「直到有人把它压扁。」

「我想是吧。你是来幸灾乐祸的，是吗？胜利者陶醉于他的征服中？」

「我想这么做，」他承认道。「在过去这曾经带给我乐趣，沾沾自喜。当灵魂成功时，自鸣得意就是它啜饮的一杯彭巴酒。但这次 …有太多我还无法解释的东西。太多细微的矛盾之处，太多未解谜题。我知道你的名声。」

艾庄塔直视着他，显然因他突然改变了方向而感到困惑。「很多人都知道。你的重点是？」

「我的重点是，那些认识你的人对你的技术抱有非常高的评价。据说你是底密尔会堂里的佼佼者，可说是万中选一。拜托，为了我那焦躁不安的思绪，你能否告诉我你为何选择如此公开地杀害一个这么显著的目标？更别提尸体周围的夸张效果了。你有充足的时间犯案并且逃脱，但你却留在原处－甚至在他们升起结界阻止你逃逸之前。那不是一个专业人士的作为。为何要以这种方式犯下如此严重的罪行，并且在你还能逃离时却不逃？」

艾庄塔看着他，丝毫没有眨眼。「那不是你真正想知道的，对吧？」她的语调温和；她的话既尖刻又无情。「问真正的问题吧，侦探。」不知何故，她将他的头衔转为一种侮辱。

波费一点也不受影响。「你是如何在侦讯期间欺骗了真相束环？如果它们已被破解，公会就需要知道。」

「噢，担心失去你用来对付地下罪犯的其中一项工具吗？」艾庄塔假装抹去一滴泪水。「少了你那个小把戏，拉尼卡要如何存活？」

「拜托。」

艾庄塔稍作停顿，因他诚恳的语调而暂时感到惊讶。

他继续说着。「你被捕了。我没有要求你透露你们会堂的秘密；我将与你的审判或判决无关。不过这座城市早已分崩离析。在各个公会之间，或公会与市民之间已没有信任可失去。我们需要知道真相束环－这座城里的某个东西－能够被信任。」

艾庄塔别过头去。

卡娅垂头丧气地走回她的租屋处，厌恶视线盯着她肌肤的感觉，厌恶在一座原本是她的城市里感到孤立，而且这里长久以来都是她的城市。天啊；她准备离去。这个地方已不再是她的家。或许它从一开始就不是她的家。

一位身穿欧佐夫色彩的讯使站在租屋处外侧，年纪轻到脸颊上只有一点点胡渣，一边等待一边焦虑地四处张望。当他看见卡娅时，他便高兴地跑向她，迅速又笨拙，差点被自己绊倒。

「鹏洛客大人，」他在来到不必大喊的距离后便对她说。

即使卡娅在听见这个称呼时内心闪缩了一下，她依然认为这相当合理。她已不再是公会长了，而且对一位前任欧佐夫公会长的正常尊称也不适用于她，毕竟她还没死。不带尊重地称呼她可能会被视为一种严重的冒犯，而在缺乏其他任何拉尼卡职位的情况下，他便直接用了他知道的头衔。这是最安全的选择。她不需要喜欢它。

「有事吗？」她问道。

「卡洛夫公会长邀请您前往庄园。」

「我猜我只是今天很受欢迎吧。」

讯使朝她眨着眼，显然感到困惑。「您说什么？」

「没什么。别在意。让我先回房间拿个东西。她有托你带给我任何额外的讯息吗？」

「这个，」他说道，一边从口袋里掏出一张密封的便条，然后稍微满意地点了点头交给她。他已完成工作，一旦她收到这封信，他就可以走了。

卡娅接过便条，并在塞进衬衫里的同时不破坏缄印。「你会护送我过去吗？」

「她说您知道怎么走。」

「她说得没错。」另一种避免冒犯她的方法。她已经厌倦拉尼卡礼仪了。当她在这里的事结束后，或许她可以去凯德海姆待一阵子，在那里没有人会担心冒犯任何人，除非是朝脸上打一拳。或是依尼翠。那里涉及更少礼节和规矩。「好吧，谢谢你如此迅速地找到我。」

她从口袋里掏出一枚钱币递给讯使，他在收下之前偷偷查看了一下币值。

「衷心感谢您，」他说，同时仿效那枚硬币消失在附近的小巷中。卡娅无奈地摇了摇头后便进入屋内。她需要在前往庄园之前先换件衬衫。又是礼仪，但必须遵守规范。趁她在房里的隐私空间，她破坏了泰莎便条的缄印并打开它。

是时候重启我们在晚宴期间无法进行的讨论了。很抱歉花了这么久的时间。对我来说，写下任何东西都不安全。请立刻前来。独自前来。

谢谢你留下来。我知道你是为了我才这么做，更胜于为了拉尼卡，而且我对此非常感激。

在一切之后，你的好友，

泰莎

泰莎的签名十分潦草。卡娅皱了眉，同时把这张便条藏在她的枕头底下，并迅速地换了衣服。是时候前往庄园了。

是时候了结这件事了。

当她急忙穿越街道前往卡洛夫庄园时，无人拦阻她，而且她发现大门的锁早已为她解开，结界已被调整为允许她通过。走上车道的过程看似是这趟旅程里最令人难以忍受的部分，不必要地漫长，只被设计来让人印象深刻与威吓。彷佛庄园本身还不够令人大开眼界似的。光是绿雕就能把窃贼赶跑了，建筑看似逐渐逼近，正看着她踏出的每一步。

卡娅持续走进屋内，因为她的到来而未上锁。她环顾四周，半预期泰莎会在等她，但却没看见另一名女子或其职员的踪影。庄园异常安静，无人随行在侧或赶忙宣告她的到来。

胃部感到一阵怪异的紧绷，卡娅开始走上楼梯。泰莎不会想在屋内的其中一个公共区域，或是在阳台上进行这场会面；任何太过重要而不能被写下的东西都会留在她的私人住所，也就是那些她为自己一人预留的房间。她在那里有一间起居室，小而优雅，完全适合这类型的会面。卡娅太了解她了，因此她确定会在那里找到她。

在她沿着长廊行进时，这种怪异的寂静无声一直持续着。泰莎肯定在这场会面之前就把员工都支开了。无论她想讨论什么，她绝对不想让它们被听见。

通往泰莎起居室的房门半掩着。卡娅走向它，并在嗅到空气中的血腥味时迟疑了一下。那份迟疑已被她冲向房门以及门后房间的速度平衡掉，她停在那里，用一只手摀住嘴巴压制正在她胸口堆积的尖叫，并且就这样注视着。

泰莎就在那里，躺在她接待访客的办公桌旁的地上。她一直在等待卡娅：那点很明显。她依然张着眼睛，空洞地凝视着天花板，而她那破碎的手杖则突出于她的胸口，沾满黏滑的血液。她的双手沾了更多同样的血，因为她在失血而亡之前曾试图拔出那根临时凑合的长矛。

泰莎死了。膝盖即将弯折使她跪在地上，卡娅摇摇晃晃地走进房间，走向她好友的尸体。死亡不是终点，对欧佐夫来说不是，但泰莎－尽管她与亡者纠缠不清－一直都是卡娅所认识最有活力的人之一。现在那一切都已结束。又一个死去的朋友。又一个需要埋葬的尸体。

某个东西在卡娅脚下嘎吱作响，使她停了下来。她往下看。无论这里发生何种争执，泰莎展示于起居室的其中一座优雅的少女雕像已被撞倒并摔成碎片。那感觉就像用亵渎泰莎的空间来伴随对她尸体的亵渎，而且看着碎片还比看着她好友的尸体更容易。卡娅跪了下来，开始捡拾那些陶瓷碎片。

有一张纸被埋在这片混乱中。卡娅皱眉，把她拾起的东西放在一旁，接着小心翼翼地捡起纸张却再次僵住不动，她的胸口随着世界缩小至一个点而逐渐紧绷。她能听见心脏的猛烈撞击声，她那激涌的血液宛如远方的海洋翻腾，要不是泰莎设下的结界，她原本会直接穿落地板，在惊慌来袭时失去对相位转换的掌控。

字迹显然是泰莎的。卡娅认得在每一行末端的一小团污渍。至于文字 …

这是非瑞克西亚文字。

卡娅呼吸得愈来愈用力，紧抓着便条的手不停抽搐并弄皱了它。她不能离开。泰莎死了，泰莎可能一直在跟非瑞克西亚合作，因此她不能离开。她得回去找伊泽霖。毕竟她得告诉他她跟这件事有关。

她一直都是。

「我没有，」艾庄塔说。

波费皱眉。「可是当你在真相束环内被质问时，你说你没杀她。」

「因为我没有。」艾庄塔把头往后仰直到撞到墙壁。「我是因为底密尔会堂需要有人担任我们的眼线才潜入派对，而且它看似是个有趣的傍晚。我没有目标。我没有任务。我有一盘淋了干酪的肉馅糕饼。它们太好吃了。」

波费发出挫败的声音。

「你没试吃过吗？真可惜。」然后艾庄塔看似决定停止玩弄他。她叹了口气说道，「如果我杀了她，我一点都不记得。我不是来这里杀人的，而且我不会免费行刺。」

「你不 …」波费稍作停顿，脑袋不停运转。

拉尼卡的法律非常清楚：如果有人以心灵操控或魔法来强迫艾庄塔的行为，那么她的罪责就不及一把刀。她或许是武器，但她不是凶手。此案仍然未决。谜题依然未解。

「你愿意帮我洗刷你的污名吗？」

艾庄塔看着他。「众公会需要得到他们应得的。我洗刷不了污名。」

「发誓你会帮我，」波费坚持地说。

「你无法修正这件事。」

「我是阿奎斯波费，我会赌上我的名声来洗刷你的污名。现在发誓。」

艾庄塔眨了眨眼，然后皱眉。「我答应你，我会尽我所能。」

「那么来吧，我们还有事要做。」他做了几个简单的动作，在空气中扭动他的手指，接着牢房的锁便喀哒一声地打开了。「呿。只是个四元无矩理论锁？他们愈来愈随便了。」他拉直自己的袖扣。「你是个训练有素的杀手。你可以无声无息地离开这里。」

她的皱眉缓缓地转为笑容。「我要去哪里？」

「我家，」他说，一边给了她地址。「我会在那里跟你碰面。」

艾庄塔点了点头便走出牢房并消融于阴影中。

波费转身离开，同时在脸上摆出恼怒的表情。「我要看到的是一个囚犯，」他大声说道，一边跨步朝大门走去。「不是一间空牢房。」

随之而来的混乱将允许他们两人离去。

想了解更多？点击下方图片，或后台输入“搜索”，在博识都“狂搜乱寻”吧！

MURDERS AT KARLOV MANOR | EPISODE 3: SHADOWS OF REGRET

The party was pretty much over after that.

Etrata's removal from the grounds of Karlov Manor took no time at all in the grand scheme of things. Long enough for everyone to see what was happening; long enough for several members of the Selesnya Conclave to approach Teysa, nearly frantic with the need to make it clear that Etrata wasn't with them, they hadn't smuggled her into the party, this was not their doing, they had been betrayed as much as anyone else! Not, perhaps, as much as Zegana, who would never be betrayed by anyone ever again, but as much as Teysa, as much as the Agency, as much as anyone else who was innocent of all wrongdoing.

Teysa's wards should have kept anyone from leaving: Karlov Manor wasn't the seat of Orzhov power, but it was the seat of her power, and here, her word was absolute law. But when the Azorius mages who had grabbed Etrata marched her to the gate and pulled her out, nothing stopped them; no other members of House Dimir appeared to demand the release of one of their own.

As during the run for the coatroom, Kaya would have sworn Teysa was nowhere nearby. The tap of the other woman's walking stick against the stones of the courtyard was the only warning she had that she was wrong, and if she hadn't been so attuned to the sound, she would have missed it under the rising hubbub of voices. Everyone wanted to know what had happened. Everyone wanted to know why a Dimir assassin had led Teysa's pet Planeswalker on a merry chase through what was supposed to be a celebration, dressed as a member of the Selesnya Conclave, no less! And into that ridiculous magic of Proft's! Only a few members of the Agency had seen it in action before, and while they were quietly smug about how elegantly he'd applied it to the task at hand, the remaining Azorius looked more annoyed than anything else.

Kaya supposed that wasn't much of a surprise. Proft had been their asset before he chose to go off and ply his talents with the Agency, and if there was one thing she knew about the guilds, it was that they didn't like losing resources. Especially these days, with everyone running close to the bone as it was.

Kaya resisted the urge to glance at Teysa as she stepped up on Kaya's right, leaning heavily on her stick. The evening had taken a lot out of her.

"You let them leave," said Kaya.

"Following our colleagues at the Agency into the investigative arts?" asked Teysa. "It seemed impolitic to imprison the members of another guild when they were apprehending a killer. They're my wards. I can open them for anyone I like. I would have opened them for you, if you'd tried to follow."

"You can't hold me here without my consent."

"No. I suppose I never could, could I? Out of all of us, you remain the one who can just … walk away, any time you want to." Teysa's expression sobered.

Kaya managed not to flinch. Somehow, without coming anywhere close to mentioning them by name, Teysa had managed to invoke the shades of Jace and Vraska, the other two people who'd walked away from Ravnica. The two who hadn't come back.

The two who never would.

What was she doing? She didn't belong here anymore. She might have said as much, but Teysa looked directly at her, heartbreaking shadows in her eyes, and said, "I'm grateful that you stayed."

"I said I would," said Kaya, looking away. "How is Vannifar?"

"Shaken, but recovering," said Teysa. "She's moving past grief and into outrage. I wouldn't want to be the person who did this. They're likely to find the entire weight of the Simic crashing down upon them, and there's no one in a position to leaven Vannifar's wrath. She and Zegana fought over the future of the Simic Combine, but they were sisters, in their way. There were deep bonds of loyalty and affection there. Vannifar won't allow this to go unanswered."

"No, I can't imagine that she would. What did you want to talk to me about before?"

Teysa hesitated, glancing at the partygoers milling around them, even as they clumped back into groups and began drifting toward the exits. Some were heading for the manor, others for the gates, depending on whether they'd left anything inside, and Kaya found herself wondering, somewhat uselessly, what the Agency intended to do about the coats that had been left under Zegana's body.

Proft, who had been standing nearby and observing this entire interaction with dismayingly keen eyes, apparently had the same thought. He straightened and hurried back toward the manor, leaving Teysa and Kaya alone in the thinning crowd.

"The news will be everywhere by morning," said Teysa bitterly. "'Come celebrate what a great job the guilds did of protecting us all, by watching them fail to protect one of their own.'"

"I'm sure people will understand that this wasn't your fault," said Kaya.

Teysa shot her a sharp look. "You know better."

She did. Still, she had hope. Hope that the wounds of war were healing; hope that the old wounds of Ravnica might be healing at the same time. Torn scar tissue could sometimes heal into something cleaner than the initial injury, if conditions were right. Maybe the conditions were right.

"Before, on the balcony, there was something you wanted to say to me," said Kaya. "Or tell me. Can you tell me now?"

Teysa sighed. "Stay long enough for the news to break, and to see that the ripples don't wash us all away, and I'll call for you," she said. "I do want to tell you, it's just … this isn't the time."

Kaya looked at her carefully. She seemed sincere. Teysa was a born politician, but even politicians can have their moments of vulnerability.

"Three days," she said, finally. "Then, if you haven't called me, I come looking."

"Deal," said Teysa.

Three days slipped steadily by. Kaya returned to her rented room, refusing Teysa's offer of a guest chamber at the manor, and Teysa, perhaps understanding that pressing the matter would be a good way to make Kaya leave the plane, hadn't pushed the issue. During the day, she wandered the streets, enjoying the familiar tastes of Ravnican street food and strong coffee laced with cream and lavender honey, and listened to the people who didn't know her well enough to bite their tongues.

Rumors swirled in the streets, bitter, writhing things with teeth that snap and bite. There had been a theft at the Orzhov party, they said; some guild member had lost a precious heirloom and was going to be furious until it could be reclaimed. There had been a betrayal. An affair had been uncovered. All manner of crimes had apparently happened on the grounds of Karlov Manor, and because both the Agency and the Azorius had been present, both groups were being spoken of with uncommon disdain.

Anyone known to have been in attendance moved at the center of a hurricane of flattery and sweet-tongued requests for more information. Most people, lacking true gossip to share, invented more and more outlandish stories, knowing that there was no one who could contradict them. Kaya listened to them all, frowned to herself, and said nothing. The less attention she attracted now, the better.

Because they didn't just talk about the party, although that was the most recent glorious scandal, and somewhat less raw than the wounds of war. They talked about the Phyrexian invasion and how the Planeswalkers had failed them all. After spending years safe in the knowledge that the average person didn't know what a Planeswalker was and thus couldn't have opinions on them, Kaya was now faced with a reality where everyone knew, and almost everyone disapproved.

It was uncomfortable enough that she was almost relieved when, on the morning of the third day, a messenger from the Agency came looking for her. She was positioned in a tiny coffee shop, listening to the morning news. The word "murder" was finally starting to circulate. That, combined with the unusual scarcity of Simic Combine members, was attracting attention, and pulling the gossips away from their ongoing discussion of the war.

"Ma'am?" said the messenger, stopping a few feet away, virtually vibrating as he waited to be acknowledged.

Kaya took one last, lingering sip of her coffee before turning to face him, blinking when she saw his face. "Agent … Kellan? Why did they send you?"

"Were you expecting the Agency to send someone?" asked Kellan, blinking earnestly.

"I thought they might, so I've been staying where I'd be easy to find," said Kaya. She rose, regretfully leaving her half-finished coffee behind. "I assume Detective Proft would like to speak with me about what happened?"

She knew, all too well, how many ears would be perking up and turning in her direction, their owners attracted by mention of the Agency, hoping to catch some juicy scrap of information.

"No, actually," said Kellan. "He isn't much on sharing his thoughts with other people when he doesn't have to. No, it's the chief who'd like to speak to you."

Kaya caught herself before blurting out, "Ezrim?" Let the gossips wonder a little longer. Instead, she nodded and beckoned for Kellan to follow her out of the shop.

Once they were on the street, and a little less obvious of a target for busybodies, she asked, "Why did you come yourself? They just honored you for your service; you should rank above playing message boy."

"Oh," said Kellan. "I asked them to send me."

"What? Why?"

"I wanted to speak with you."

Kaya blinked, not sure how she was supposed to respond to that. Kellan started walking toward the Agency headquarters, and she automatically followed, still trying to process her thoughts.

"Why?" she asked, finally.

"I've read your file. You're not from here." He waved a hand, indicating the city around them. "Ravnica, I mean. You came from someplace much farther away."

"You're allowed to say 'Planeswalker,' you know. It's not a bad word," said Kaya.

Kellan looked briefly abashed. "Sorry. Yes. You're a Planeswalker."

"So is my father. I hoped you might … I wondered if you might know where he is."

Kaya stopped walking. Kellan continued for several more steps before he noticed and turned to face her.

"What?" he asked.

"Your father is—who's your father?" Please don't let him say a name I know, she added silently. Please, if there's any mercy left in the Blind Eternities, he won't name one of the dead.

"His name's Oko," he said. "He's one of the fae."

A stranger, then. "Sorry. Don't know him."

She could see the disappointment in his eyes even as the relief flowed through her.

"You're the second Planeswalker I've talked to who's said that. I thought—well, the Agency has all sorts of information. I thought they might know something, if he's ever passed through here."

"And no luck?"

Kellan only shook his head. "The filing system is … complicated."

"Just keep on looking, okay, kid? And if I ever run into him, I'll tell him you're trying to find him," said Kaya.

Kellan gave her a fragile, sidelong smile. "Thank you," he said. "That would mean a lot."

The floating, angular shape of the Agency headquarters loomed in front of them. Streams of water cascaded from the base, falling into channels that had been designed to catch them before they could flood the streets. Agency mounts stood at the ready, ferrying agents up and down. Kellan led Kaya through the queue, up to the door, and past the security check, escorting her down the hall to Ezrim's office before he said, "I'll see you when you're done with the boss," and left her alone.

Kaya hesitated, looking at the closed door. Waiting wouldn't make this happen any faster, and so, gingerly, she raised her hand and knocked.

"Enter," boomed Ezrim from inside.

Kaya took a deep breath and stepped through the door, not bothering to open it first.

Ezrim's office had been designed with his ever-present companion in mind. In addition to a massive desk and several traditional chairs for visitors, the back third or so of the space had been turned into something close to a stable, with straw on the floor under a heap of pillows that formed a sort of lounging chair. Not that Ezrim was currently lounging; the great archon was sitting on the back of his steed, twisted to face the desk, sorting a pile of papers. Kaya realized with a small start that she didn't know whether Ravnican archons were a single conjoined being or a pair of individuals who simply chose to never be apart for any reason. She had never seen Ezrim dismounted nor any other archon of Ravnica knocked from their partners in combat. If they were one creature, this office was a symbol of practical necessity, not one of consideration.

"You called for me, sir?" she asked, folding her hands behind her back and standing at attention.

"I did," said Ezrim, before falling silent. Kaya recognized the ensuing silence as a prompt for her to say something, and so she stood a little straighter and said nothing at all. She was happy to come when called for, but that didn't mean she worked for Ezrim. She didn't technically owe him anything. If he wanted her to talk, he could ask her a question.

After enough time had passed for the silence to become uncomfortable, Ezrim cleared his throat and said, "You're not a member of the Agency."

"No, sir."

"But you're a well-known problem-solver. The Orzhov have always spoken highly of your problem-solving abilities."

Somehow, she doubted the "always" in that sentence. Kaya smiled thinly and said, "Thank you, sir."

"Because of your position as a former guild leader, the guilds will view you as largely neutral in this situation. You had no known grudges against either the Simic Combine or House Dimir."

"No, sir. I get on reasonably well with both guilds."

"Teysa called us both to that party to try to lend us what legitimacy she had to offer. I, as head of the Agency, and you as a former guild master … and a Planeswalker. You're aware that your kind are not presently well regarded in Ravnica. I believe even Guildmaster Zarek has encountered issues of late."

"I'm aware, sir," said Kaya.

"I would like you to assume leadership of this investigation. You would have access to any resources you need, including my staff, and I believe you would need some sort of lever to remove Detective Proft from the case. He doesn't let go of a puzzle once his interest has been aroused. While the assassin Etrata has been detained, we still don't know who ordered the killing, or why, and she continues to insist that she has no memory of the deed."

Kaya said nothing. For once, Ezrim didn't allow the pause to stretch out.

"Your neutrality is assumed. Your involvement could only help to redeem public opinion of the Planeswalkers who couldn't save us when we needed them most."

"No."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"No. It's a complete sentence, and you know what it means. No, I won't help you with this. I've done more than enough already. Thank you for your concern about my reputation." She turned on her heel and stalked out of the office, once more without opening the door. Ezrim didn't call her back.

Kellan was gone, probably elsewhere in the building doing his actual job, but it felt like every other eye at the Agency was fixed on her as she lifted her chin and walked back down the hall to the door, leaving their silences and unwanted requests behind.

The sooner she was out of Ravnica, the better.

The Agency had been established to investigate crimes without the bias of guild affiliation tainting their discoveries. Criminals, whether proven or strongly suspected, were remanded to Azorius custody to be held in appropriate conditions.

As Proft stood waiting for the Azorius lawmage guarding the door to finish checking his papers and let him through, he couldn't help regretting the years he'd spent doing precisely the same thing.

"Everything seems to be in order," said the lawmage finally. Three layers of security had looked over Proft's paperwork, none of them finding any issues. At least this one was too new to the guild to have overlapped his tenure. People who remembered him dressed in their own colors tended to be even more insufferable when confronted with what they saw as him begging them for access. "You can go in."

The door unlocked at the lawmage's words, and Proft nodded, reclaiming his papers. "Excellent performance of duty," he said, trying to restrain his tone as he stepped into the final hall between him and his destination.

Etrata's cell was the only one occupied in this block, leaving her entirely isolated, save for her guards, none of whom were likely to indulge her in conversation. She looked up at Proft's approach, abandoning what looked like the rapt contemplation of a spider that was making its way across the wall.

"Consumed by fellow-feeling?" he asked.

"We're nothing alike, the spider and I," she said. "It can leave whenever it desires. No one punishes it for following its nature. No one imprisons it. It does as it likes, and always shall."

"Until someone smashes it flat."

"I suppose. Come to gloat, have you? The victor reveling in his conquest?"

"I want to," he admitted. "It has brought me pleasure in the past, the gloating. Gloating is the glass of bumbat the soul consumes when it succeeds. But this time … there are too many things I still can't explain. Too many little inconsistencies, too many unanswered questions. I know your reputation."

Etrata stared at him, apparently bewildered by his sudden change of directions. "Many people do. Your point?"

"My point would be, the people who know about you speak very highly of your skills. You're supposedly one of the best that House Dimir has to offer, the cream of their crop, as it were. Please, for the sake of my unsettled thoughts, will you tell me why you chose to kill such a prominent target in such a public way? Not to mention the theatrics surrounding the body. You had plenty of time to commit the murder and make your escape, but you remained on the grounds even before the wards were raised to prevent your exit. That isn't the work of a professional. Why commit such a grievous crime in such a manner and not make your escape while you could?"

Etrata looked at him, unblinking. "That's not what you really want to know, is it?" Her tone was mild; her words acid-tipped and unforgiving. "Ask the real question, Detective." Somehow, she turned his title into an insult.

Proft was unfazed. "How were you able to trick the verity circles during your interview? If they've been defeated, the guilds need to know."

"Aw, worried about losing one of your tools against the criminal underworld?" Etrata mimed wiping away a tear. "However would Ravnica survive without your little parlor tricks?"

"Please."

Etrata paused, briefly taken aback by the sincerity in his tone.

He went on. "You've been caught. I'm not asking you to give away the secrets of your house; I'll have nothing to do with your trial or sentencing. But the city is already splintered enough. There's no trust lost between the individual guilds, or between the guilds and the citizens. We need to know that the verity circles—that something in this city—can be trusted."

Etrata looked away.

Kaya walked back to her rented room with her head down and her shoulders tight, hating the feeling of eyes on her skin, hating the feeling of isolation from a city that should have been hers, that had been hers for so long. Gods and monsters; she was ready to go. This place wasn't her home anymore. Maybe it had never been her home in the first place.

A courier in Orzhov colors stood outside the rental house, young enough to have only the faintest blush of stubble painting his cheeks, glancing anxiously around as he waited. When he saw Kaya, he brightened and hurried toward her, quick and awkward, almost stumbling over his own feet.

"Master Planeswalker," he said, once he was close enough to address her without shouting.

Even as she inwardly winced at the address, Kaya supposed it made sense. She wasn't a guildmaster anymore, and the normal honorifics for a former Orzhov guild leader didn't apply to her, since she wasn't dead, either. Addressing her without respect could have been taken as a grave insult, and in the absence of any other role on Ravnica, he had defaulted to the one he knew. It was the safest choice. She didn't have to like it.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Guildmaster Karlov requests your presence at the manor."

"Guess I'm just popular today."

The courier blinked at her, clearly confused. "Pardon?"

"Nothing. Never mind. Just let me get something from my room. Did she give you any additional messages for me?"

"This," he said, producing a sealed note from inside his pocket and offering it to her with a small, satisfied nod. He had done his job, and as soon as she took the letter, he could go.

Kaya took the note, not breaking the seal as she tucked it into her shirt. "Will you be escorting me?"

"She said you would know the way."

"She was right about that." Another method of avoiding insulting her. She was so tired of Ravnican manners. When she was done here, maybe she could go to Kaldheim for a while, where no one was worried about insulting anyone else, unless it was with a fist to the face. Or Innistrad. Far less etiquette and propriety involved. "Well, thank you for finding me so quickly."

She produced a coin from her pocket and passed it to the courier, who surreptitiously checked the value before he made it disappear.

"Thank you kindly," he said and emulated the coin as he vanished into a nearby alley. Kaya shook her head in reluctant fondness before making her way inside. She needed to change her shirt before she went to the manor. Manners again, but propriety must be observed. While in the privacy of her room, she broke the seal on Teysa's note and opened it.

It's time for the discussion we couldn't have during the gala. I'm so sorry it's taken this long. It's not safe for me to write anything down. Please come at once. Come alone.

Thank you for staying. I know you did it for my sake, more than Ravnica's, and I appreciate it more than you can know.

Your friend, after everything,

Teysa

Teysa's signature was a nasty scrawl. Kaya frowned as she concealed the note beneath her pillow, quickly changed her clothes, and left. Time to head for the manor.

Time to finish this.

No one stopped her as she hurried through the streets to Karlov Manor, and she found the gates already unlocked for her, the wards having been adjusted to allow her passage. The walk up the driveway seemed like the most intolerable part of her journey, needlessly long, designed only to impress and intimidate. As if the manor weren't impressive enough entirely on its own merits. The topiary alone would send most thieves running, and the building seemed to loom, watching every step she took.

Kaya continued onward into the house, which had been left unlocked for her arrival. She looked around, half expecting Teysa to be waiting for her, but saw no sign of the other woman, or of her staff. The manor was eerily quiet, with no one in attendance or rushing to announce her.

Feeling a strange tightness in her stomach, Kaya started up the stairs. Teysa wouldn't want to have this meeting in one of the public areas of the house, or on the balcony; anything too important to be written down would be left for her private quarters, the rooms she reserved for herself alone. She had a parlor there, small and elegant, outfitted for meetings of precisely this type. Kaya knew her well enough to be certain she would find her there.

The strange silence and stillness persisted as she made her way along the hall. Teysa must have sent the staff away before this meeting. Whatever she had to discuss, she wanted absolutely no risk that they'd be overheard.

The door to Teysa's private parlor stood slightly ajar. Kaya moved toward it, hesitating for an instant when she caught the scent of blood in the air. That hesitation was more than balanced by the speed with which she threw herself at the door and into the room beyond, where she stopped, clapping a hand over her mouth to contain the scream she could feel building in her chest, and simply stared.

Teysa was there, sprawled on the floor next to the desk where she received visitors. She had been waiting for Kaya: that much was clear. Her eyes were still open, staring blankly at the ceiling, and the shattered shaft of her walking stick protruded from her chest, slick with blood. More of that same blood stained her hands, where she had tried to pull the makeshift spear out before she bled to death.

Teysa was gone. Knees threatening to buckle and drop her to the floor, Kaya staggered into the room, heading for the body of her friend. Death wasn't the end, not for the Orzhov, but Teysa, for all her entanglements with the dead, had always been one of the most vitally alive people Kaya knew. And all that was over now. Another friend gone. Another body to bury.

Something crunched under Kaya's foot, stopping her. She looked down. One of the elegant maiden statues Teysa kept on display in the parlor had been knocked over in whatever altercation happened here and lay in pieces. That felt like a desecration of Teysa's space to accompany the desecration of her body, and looking at it seemed easier than looking at her friend's body. Kaya knelt, beginning to collect the ceramic shards.

A piece of paper was buried among the mess. Kaya frowned, setting what she'd gathered aside as she picked it up carefully then froze again, her chest tightening as the world narrowed to a single point. She could hear her heart hammering in her ears, the rushing of her blood like the sound of a distant sea, and if it hadn't been for Teysa's wards, she would have dropped straight through the floor, losing control of her phasing in the face of her panic.

The writing was clearly Teysa's. Kaya knew the little smear at the bottom of each line. The script, however …

The script was Phyrexian.

Kaya breathed harder and harder, hand closing convulsively around the note and wrinkling it. She couldn't leave. Teysa was dead, Teysa might have been working with Phyrexia, and she couldn't leave. She had to go back to Ezrim. She had to tell him she was in this after all.

She always had been.

"I didn't," said Etrata.

Proft frowned. "But when you were questioned within the verity circle, you said you didn't kill her."

"Because I didn't." Etrata tilted her head back until it hit the wall. "I snuck into the party because House Dimir needed someone to be our eyes, and it seemed like an amusing evening. I had no targets. I had no assignments. I had a plate of those meat-filled pastries with the cheese on top. They were lovely."

Proft made a frustrated sound.

"Didn't you get to try them? I'm sorry." Etrata seemed to decide to stop toying with him then. She sighed and said, "If I killed her, I don't remember it. I didn't come there to kill anyone, and I don't assassinate for free."

"You didn't …" Proft paused, mind whirling.

Ravnican law was very clear: if mind control or magic had been used to force Etrata's actions, she was no more culpable than a knife. She might be the weapon, but she wasn't the killer. The case remained open. The puzzle remained unsolved.

"Will you help me clear your name?"

Etrata looked at him. "The guilds need their pound of flesh. There is no clearing my name."

"Swear you'll help me," said Proft insistently.

"You can't fix this."

"I am Alquist Proft, and I will risk my name to clear yours. Now swear."

Etrata blinked, then frowned. "As much as I can, you have my word."

"Then come, we have work to do." He made a few simple motions, twisting his fingers through the air, and the lock on her cell sprang open with a click. "Pff. Only a quadroanarchic theory-lock? They're getting sloppy." He straightened his cufflinks. "You're a trained assassin. You can get out of here without being seen."

Slowly, her frown became a smile. "And where am I going?"

"My home," he said and gave her the address. "I'll see you there."

Etrata nodded before stepping out of the cell and melting into the shadows.

Proft turned to go, fixing a look of irritation on his face. "I was promised a prisoner," he said loudly, striding toward the door. "Not an empty cell."

The chaos that followed would allow them both to make their exits.