Pathspace: The Space of Paths (16 page)

“That is no excuse,” she said. “I fail to
see the problem.”

Given that we are not, as yet, at war with
Texas,” said Xander, “the Honcho will certainly press for
extradition. He can hardly be expected to stand by and let us
execute one of his senior staff.”

“On the other hand,” said the Governor, “I
can hardly be expected to hand him over, knowing full well he could
be given nothing more than a token reprimand. My citizens would be
justifiably angry, were I to even suggest it. I see the
problem.”

“There might be a third way,” said the
wizard. “if we could exonerate any of them, then those could be
repatriated without interfering with swift and sure justice for the
guilty.”

“How could we do that? To exonerate any of
them we'd have to try them all separately. We both know we might
not have that much time until the Honcho moves against us.”

By that time she'd heard enough. Scuttling
backward , she reached the fan room and plunged into the shaft to
her own room. Moments later she dove down onto her bed and reached
up to re-close the shaft vent, then hurried out the door and ran to
the stairwell.

“Where are you off to in such unseemly
haste?”

She skidded to a stop, trying not to show
the scowl she felt. Ludlow! “I'm late for a tutorial.” she
lied.

“Ah, but since you are the Governor's
daughter, I'm sure your tutor will give you some latitude,” he
said. “I wanted to discuss something with you. “It seems to me that
we – “

“Not now!” she snapped. “Whatever it is can
wait for a better time.”

“Haven't you heard there is no better time
than the present?”

“Not my present,” she said. “Go bother
someone else.” She ignored the momentary flash of anger that her
words evoked on his face as she wrenched open the stairwell door
and hurried down the stairs.

How are they going to decide if any of
them are innocent?
she wondered. Simple questioning wasn't the
answer. would her mother let herself be talked into allowing
torture? Her lips compressed. She could imagine the rationalization
that would be given by some advisors, once they heard of the
murders: if our soldiers had done this, do you imagine the Honcho
would hesitate to use pain to obtain confessions?

As she descended, she found herself exiting
the stairwell at the level of the thirtieth floor, where Xander and
his apprentice were quartered. Maybe there was some magic of the
Ancients that could tell truth from lies. It was worth
investigating.

The two guards jerked to attention as she
strode forward. She didn't know these two by name, and vice versa,
which explained their nervousness. She shook her head, wondering
when someone would worry about something more important than
military bearing. “I'm here to speak to the apprentice,” she told
them. “The Governor sent me to ask him something.” It was a flimsy
lie, she realized, but she counted on them to underestimate her
like everyone else did. Everyone, that is, except her mother.

“Do you want us to come in with you?” one of
them asked.

She forced herself to smile in amusement.
“Oh come now, soldier. You don't think I'm in any danger from our
own apprentice, do you?”

“No, ma'am. But we'll be right outside here
if you need us.”

She rolled her eyes. “So reassuring” she
told him as she unbolted the door and slipped inside.

Lester stood in front of a mirror. Aria
rolled her eyes again. His rough clothes had not led her to think
of him as vain. Apparently, she had been fooled by first
impressions. Again.

Abruptly, he vanished. Her eyes widened for
a moment. Then the door shut behind her and he rematerialized,
turning toward the sound.

“I'm glad to see you're making
some
progress.”

“Oh, hello again. Is it time for lunch
already? This is hungry work.”

“I'm not here to feed you,” she said. “Does
Xander have anything here that can tell truth from lies? It's
important.”

“Why? Is something up?”

Briefly, she explained. “So I'm afraid my
mother will feel pressed for time, and allow them to resort to
torture. Is there another way, one he might have mentioned to
you?”

He appeared confused. “Does your mother work
for the Governor? Is she some kind of magistrate or something?”

“My mother is the Governor, fool!” She
stooped and made herself take breath. “Sorry, I was just hoping I
could find her another way. From what I've read, once a government
starts using torture, they generally find it easier to do the next
time.”

He stroked his stubble. “Xander hasn't
mentioned anything from the Tourists that would help with
questioning. But there might be another way,” he said. “If you
could get me in there, I could listen to them when they think no
one's around.”

She considered it. “Worth a try,” she
muttered. “But we might not have much time. The men Xander captured
were scouts. She's probably afraid there might be an army not far
behind them, so it's important she questions them as soon as they
get here. How fast can you move when you're invisible?”

“Hold on,” he said. “They're not here yet?
Then how do you know about them?”

“Xander came back to report before them. I
just heard him talking to the Governor about it.”

“What?” He seemed surprised. “How did he get
back before them?”

She shrugged. “How should I know? He
is
a wizard. Maybe you should ask him. Anyway, your plan
might work even better if you're in place
before
they get to
the holding cell. They might be on their guard if I visit them
first.”

“How do you even know where they'll be held?
Or that they'll even make it to Denver, considering what you say
happened.”

Our men aren't savages,” she snapped. “And
they know Xander knows they have the prisoners. They won't risk a
wizard's wrath for the fleeting joy of revenge. Or my
mother's.”

“Wow,” he said, “I almost forgot that.
What's it like, being the Governor's daughter?”

“Be thankful you'll never know,” she said.
“I'm, expected to take her place someday, but in the meantime no
one seems to think I can do it. Endless classes and training, and
all the men see me as a pampered kid. I have no friends at
all.”

“Sorry to hear that. I know what that's
like,” he said. “I've been here a couple of weeks and you're the
only person near my age I've even
seen
. Don't your mother's
men have families?”

“Probably, but they must be in another
building.” She met his eyes. “Can you do anything besides
disappear?”

“Not yet,” he admitted. “he said learning
that was the first step, so I could survive long enough to learn
the rest.”

“Well, I do know where the holding cells
are,” she said. “I'll distract the guards and you slip out behind
me. Can you make it to the stairwell without me? I'll meet you
there.”

He shrugged and smiled. “I'll try not to
disappoint the future Governor,” he said.

Aria moved to the door. “Count to thirty,
then follow me,” she whispered. Then she knocked on the door and
raised her voice. “Coming out.”

There was the sound of the bolt sliding
back, then the door opened and she blinked in the brighter light of
the corridor. She stepped out, leaving the door ajar.

Now for a distraction. What works best
with men?
She let herself stumble against one of the guards and
reached an arm around his waist as if she needed support.

He stiffened for a second, startled, then
pulled her against him. “Are you all right, Miss? Did he – ”

“Oh good grief,” she said, straightening and
pulling away after a moment. “Of course not. I just stumbled.” She
had the attention of both of them now. She kept it by straightening
her belt and tucking in her blouse, making sure to make the fabric
press skintight against her breasts as she did so. They were
smaller than her mother's but she did not doubt that the men would
look at them anyway. And they did.

Behind the two men she saw the door move
slightly, it's edge rippling like the air over a hot stove. She
fidgeted with her clothing for a few more seconds, then
straightened again and reached forward past them to shut the
door.

“Did you get the answers you needed?” one of
them asked, to change the subject.

Aria rolled her eyes. Maybe she was
overdoing that expression, she thought, but it came naturally at
the idea that men could be so easily distracted by bumps on a
chest. “Hardly. Maybe I'll come back later, when the wizard's
back.”

She strode down the corridor, ears straining
for the sound of Lester's footprints behind her. But she heard
nothing. Well, the door had moved. He must be around here
somewhere. She opened the door to the stairwell and held it open,
stranding there for a minute as if deep in thought. After a but,
she felt a bump against the door and realized he had made it after
all.

Lester:
“to mock ourselves with falsehood”

He groped his way in darkness, barely
conscious that she was was saying something to the guards. The
blackness was total. He felt his way along the wall, hoping he had
taken the right direction for the stairwell.

After what seemed an eternity, his fingers
felt the door. She stepped to the side of is and waited. In a
moment he heard her open it, and slipped into the stairwell ahead
of her. Once inside, he relaxed and unraveled the pathspace
weave.

Light flooded back into his universe,
bringing the welcome sight of Aria with it. “So you made it,” she
said. “Why are you sweating?”

Hi wiped his forehead. “I'm still new at
this,” he told her. “It's not easy to maintain while I'm moving.
It's a lot easier if I just stand still, so the weave only has to
be done once.”

“
Oh,” she said. “Come on,
it's several floors below us.”

As they descended, he tried not to glue his
eyes to the tightness of her clothing. Her blouse was tucked into
trousers that no one would have mistaken for a man's...given their
contents. Mentally slapping himself, he forced his eyes up higher
and reminded himself that she was the Governor's daughter. The
Heir! Somehow she had neglected to mention that, the first time he
had seen her with a tray of food. At the time he had wondered if he
might ask her to a dance, assuming they had dances in Denver. Now
he had to laugh st such thoughts. One day she would rule Rado, and
he would be just a wizard, if he was lucky. And not even the only
wizard. If Xander's plans succeeded, he'd be one of many by then,
just another member of a growing school.

But was it true that she had no friends? He
considered it. It might be true. Obviously the Governor wouldn't
look kindly on her soldiers following her daughter around. Maybe
she had something in common with him, after all. Both of them were
isolated by their circumstances.

After many floors, she stopped on a landing.
“The holding cell is ti the left,” she said. “It's inside another
room. I'll open the outer door for you so you can find a good place
to stand or sit before they get here.”

“
Are you sure this is the
one they'll be in?” he asked. "I mean, there must be more than one
holding cell. Won't they just throw them in the one closest to the
ground floor?”

“
No,” she said. “if
they're high-priority prisoner, and these will be, given what
they've done, they'll want them as far from the street level as
possible. That's this one. Ready?”

He nodded and wrapped
pathspace around him as she opened the door. Thew darkness closed
in again. As he often did at such times, Lester wondered if there
might be a way to let let
some
of
the light in, as long as it didn't get back out to the eyes of
others. But there was no helping it, at least for now. He groped
his way out the door, turned left, and inched forward, reweaving
the pathspace shield every foot or so before he could push out of
the darkness into visibility.

He heard the sound of the door, found it by
feel, and slipped in after her.

“
Is there anyone within
sight?” he whispered.

“
No,” he heard.
“Why?”

Instead of answering, he undid the weave and
squinted as light tried to blind his dark-adapted eyes again. The
room was about twenty feet square, and had a wall of iron bars
across the middle. The wall was parallel to the corridor outside,
so that the rectangular cell it bounded ran the length of the room
from left to right. “Shouldn't that window be barred, too?” he
wondered.

Aria looked at him as if
he were crazy. He could almost hear the word
fool
in her mind.

“
No, we're still fifteen
floors above the ground. And there's no ledge. Anyone who goes out
that window will decorate the sidewalk with their insides. Hey,
what are you doing? If anyone walks by they'll see you!”

“
It's easier to pick my
spot if I can see it,” he said, trying not to show his irritation.
Didn't she realize he had to stand somewhere where there was little
chance of anyone walking right into an invisible man? “Once I
vanish, I won't be able to see anyone coming to get out of their
way,” he told her. “So I have to see to find the best place to
hide.”

“
Oh, right. Sorry,” she
said, sounding contrite.

There was a small table and a chair by the
right wall, so he planted himself on the opposite side. He leaned
against the wall. “I have two questions. First, how long do we have
before they get here? If I have to stay invisible for hours I might
get tired by the time they arrive and reappear before I hear
anything useful.”