Able closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. Every creak it gave protesting his weight was echoed by another creak in his bones. And then, finally, a lapse in all the pressure and pain in his back. Probably a blissful sigh was not the reaction his interrogators were hoping for.
He took a deep, easy inhale and opened his eyes again. Reeve and Capstone still watched him from their seats on either side of the table from him in the cramped office. Tanner loudly paced the floor behind him, but he barely cared. There was only one thing he could do now, so he might as well feel confident about doing it.
"I appreciate your patience," Reeve started.
Able barked a laugh before he could stop himself.
The sheriff mildly waited for silence before finishing, "and I look forward to your cooperation."
Able just flipped his hands in response because, really, what else could he do?
Reeve nodded to Capstone, who slid Able's notes across the table towards him.
"These were found under your mattress," she said. "Explain."
Able meant to shrug, but it seemed like an awful lot of effort. "Sure, there was no lock on the door, and I didn't know who might try to go through my things, so I took to hiding my notes."
"Several of these sheets are little more than names of escaped indentured servants."
"I won't reveal my sources—"
Tanner huffed loudly and impatiently.
Paying him any mind seemed like too much effort too, so Able continued, "But I will say those are people whose stories were entrusted to me, and I was attempting to verify if anything I was told about them was true with your records here. Sadly, those were only what I could recall from memory, as my previous notes were lost."
Capstone nodded then withdrew the notes and replaced them with Able's pamphlet about the dam proposal. "This was found in Constance Driver's quarters." Able had to admire her inimical face and tone.
"I don't know much about her, let alone how she came by that."
"She scrubbed her correspondence," Capstone conceded. "But she left this. Why?"
"Okay, so essentially, you have nothing." Both good news and bad.
"We have you outside the Count's audience chamber conspiring with a known enemy combatant," Reeve reminded flatly.
"Right." Able leaned forward with the intent of sitting up, but fatigue claimed his spine and he slumped to his elbows on the table. Fine. "So I suggest we make a deal. I'll tell you everything I know if you get me the clearance I need to go prove it."
There was a silence, one Tanner seemed to find hard to honor as his pacing got louder. Capstone also deferred to Reeve's thoughtful frown with all of a gaze.
Able folded his hands and set his chin on them. "Look. You're short-handed with a population on the verge of revolt both in and outside these walls, nearly a year's worth of missing taxes, and a gentleman of high office looking to pin the whole mess on you. In the scope of your troubles, I am a small-time pain in the ass and drag on your resources. I think we can help each other."
Reeve's stare didn't waver. "What on earth could you do to help me?"
"If I'm right, and the Shadow is Prince Plaudit, you aren't going to want to be on the wrong side of the repercussions. You already are, given that you personally assaulted him, and while he was potentially an innocent civilian at that."
Reeve snorted dismissively. "If he had not shown the training he did in his reaction, I would have stopped." But now he rubbed his chin for a moment longer. "Let me get this straight. Telling me what you know in exchange for being cleared of charges of treason isn't good enough for you? No, you want to come out of this with higher security clearance—is that it?"
"I don't see how I can be much help to you without it." Able managed to shrug this time. "No offense intended to Capstone's capabilities, but she's stationed here and the records we'll need are in Lionstone Palace, and you probably don't want Adeptson catching on that you're looking into the matter."
Tanner chuckled. "Dr. Deathwish."Able was surprised enough to glance back at him. He shook his head and shrugged. "You got balls. I'll give you that."
"You are aware," Capstone's tone was mild, "that what you suggest is insurrection?"
"I'm aware that Adeptson would love to call it that." Had they mentioned Able's presence and situation to their erratic count? They couldn't be feeling safe with him themselves right now. "How has he taken Driver's treachery, anyway?"
Capstone shut her mouth and looked to Reeve again. His face twitched in determination not to give anything away, in and of itself a sign Able was close to the mark.
"I won't make a deal, Houser." Reeve leaned back and spread his hands wide. "But you're welcome to try to change my mind."
That reassurance would have been nice. Able could still demonstrate he was more useful as an agent than a scapegoat to sacrifice to the magistrate without it. Trust his own ability or trust Chestnut Miller's magic, he could only try.
So he proceeded, careful not to mention Ma, to explain Pa's involvement in the prince's kidnapping. Then how he'd found the prince by looking for his father and thereby discovered that the Sons of Justice were still at large. He told them about Red and how the prince had requested his help getting past her. Admitted that as the Shadow, the prince had convinced the Resistance to treat Able with courtesy.
He explained that the prince thought of the Borealunders as his own people but questioned if the Sons truly thought of the prince as their own. He related how Constance Driver tried to recruit him and, instead of hoping that the enforcers would believe him, he'd decided to help the prince meet the count for a chance at a peaceful resolution.
"And it simply never occurred to you," Capstone said slowly and skeptically, "that they might have known enough to construct this story to earn your support?"
"It occurred to me," Able replied with a shrug. "But why? Why bother inventing some convoluted in-fighting to enlist my aid in bringing the Shadow within striking distance of the count when that's something he obviously could do on his own, given how frequently he was sneaking indentured papers out of here?"
"Our security has improved since those days," she retorted but still seemed to take his point.
In case she wasn't though, Able said, "Driver could still have done it herself at any time. But I think she finds the count more useful alive than replaced. The prince too—what does she need him for, that she'd blow the cover off her insurgency?"
Capstone rubbed her forehead then her eyes. "I suspected her for some time, but her record was too clean, and her habits too tidy. So I could never get clear of the shade of female rivalry." She looked at Reeve. "Sir, I have to admit I find his interpretation tempting."
"After how long you've been banging your head against this situation, I am not surprised," Reeve allowed with maintained dignity, though he looked like he'd rather join Tanner in his pacing.
"Well, at the risk of sounding desperate then," she said and picked up Able's old pamphlet, "I'll add that based on his work alone, I would not have thought to question his discernment."
"After that charming rant about how men lose their wits to a pretty face—no accounting for taste?" Tanner huffed.
Able very calmly raised a puzzled eyebrow. He hoped.
Capstone glared over Able's head at Tanner. "I'd appreciate it if you would not attempt to tarnish my professional reputation." Then she met Able's eyes. "Especially when I already told you there was no evidence to further that line of questioning." Was this Day's doing? Or maybe...Capstone considered Able one of her own in this way? Either way, gratitude flushed through him.
"That's why you question, get them to fill in the gaps in your evidence." Tanner's hand clapped down on Able's shoulder like a meaty spider. "And I was looking forward to it."
Somehow Able swallowed his revulsion to dryly remark, "I'm sure," though he couldn't resist trying to brush Tanner off. "You're a real credit to the uniform."
Tanner tightened his grip, his fingers prying under Able's collarbone. "You're trying to start something you have no business starting, you arrogant little shit."
Able squeezed his eyes shut and fought down his grimace. He could not afford to lose his composure. Not now.
"It's bad form to rough up a cooperative prisoner," Reeve stated then stood. Both his underlings called "sir" after him as he made his way to the door. "You may question him further, but I need to see about a couple things." The door closed behind him.
Tanner exchanged a look with Capstone. "No. He's not...damn it." He stepped back and flung his arms over his head. After pacing a few steps, he looked at her incredulously. "You're not going after him?"
"And leave you alone with the prisoner?" she replied dryly.
"Good of you to volunteer, Inspector." He strode for the door and whipped it back open. The slam seemed to roll through the bones of the mansion.
Able waited a moment after the echoes had faded to whisper, "Thank you."
Capstone smiled wryly. "Where is the Resistance camp?"
Able didn't contain his chuckle. "In the forest. There were trees. I remember that."
She shook her head, clearly irritated.
"I saw no sign of the stolen weapons and their supplies were meager. I'd wager there is more than one base."
Now she rolled her eyes. "Obviously." She sighed and leaned back in her chair to consider him a while. "I know your type, Houser."
The warmth he had felt towards her before froze too quickly for him to hide it.
But she chuckled. "That type too, but I mean this type." She slid the pamphlet at him. "Idealistic reformer. The world is just a few good ideas short of a better tomorrow. That sort."
Able picked up his piece about the dam, at least two years old now. She wasn't wrong, obnoxious as her patronizing tone was.
She flipped one hand open in allowance. "Say you're right, and you can prove this man is the missing prince. What then?" What sort of test was this?
"I imagine Adeptson might be removed from his office."
Her eyes narrowed. "You might become very rich and famous. Twelve-year-old mystery solved. Favor to the crown, perhaps therefore favored by the crown. See, that's what Reeve thinks you're after. Tanner too, if he's thought that far. And it didn't even occur to you, did it?"
Again, she wasn't wrong. Able could have kicked himself but settled for stammering, "I—I always thought my father's involvement would, uh, preclude any sort of honors."
"You didn't actually think about it," she insisted.
Damn, that was one hell of an oversight. He had sold himself to Reeve as an ambitious upstart when they'd first met. He was primed to buy more of it! But no, Able had coasted guileless on some witch's predictions. At that, he should probably just be grateful he had gotten out of that cell with as many of his wits as he had.
"So what are you trying to do?" Capstone asked.
Able sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Honesty had got him here, so honest the course remained. "My father wanted to stop the war. I suppose the apple didn't fall far from the tree."
She inhaled then nodded and gazed at the far wall. He'd left her no reason to distrust him. And with no further questions, apparently, as they sat in silence waiting for Reeve to return.
"I suppose you recognize my type because it was once your type?" Able asked after a moment.
She continued to stare.
Able accepted she had no intention of answering and leaned back in his chair again and closed his eyes. That still felt way better than it should.
"Could be," Capstone murmured, pulling his attention back to her. "When I started working with Hopeful Fisher, he would have fit the bill. Might still today, if things had gone differently. Always sure there was an answer, that things could work better by 'reallocating efforts appropriately.'" This last bit had her shoulders straight with forced gusto and an attempted deeper voice. She then shook her head with a sad smile. "We were three years into a war that the generals had estimated would take two. Heavy casualties and loss of ground were not what the crown was looking for, so they put Inspector Fisher on the job. We went out to the base camps, then to the front, all the while detailing problems and failures to comply with regulations in reports sent back to Lionstone.
"The inspector put all the positive spin he could on it, making suggestions for changes that could be implemented easily or suggesting that more aid would be on its way shortly, but no one could miss the resentment the soldiers had at our presence. I couldn't understand it at first—why wouldn't you want to be in compliance with regulations and making sure you had all the people you needed and not be taking these sloppy shortcuts that were piling up into losses and disasters down the road? Sure, officers were being removed from command, but wouldn't you want your life in the hands of a more competent commander? I didn't understand until the shells..." Capstone tightly clasped her hands together under her chin and held while her eyes widened and worked back and forth.
"You don't have to talk about what happened," Able interrupted gently. "I saw the reports."
"Houser, most of what I had seen, up until that point were reports." Her wild gaze locked onto him. "I hadn't seen what would have probably passed in regulations for a secure location go up in flames anyway. If you look at the report, you might think 'their failure was not keeping a frequent watch in the boggy, wooded lowlands that seemed an impossible place to store munitions.' You wouldn't be wrong, either, but with limited resources, the Captain had thought the area managed with a cursory patrol. No one imagined anyone could set up one three-hundred-pound swivel gun in there, let alone four. Several of the shells just hit the trees, you know, although I suppose falling into the bog doused their fuses." She leaned forward and rubbed her face vigorously before she shuddered, then muttered, "...bang."
The report had clinically detailed those heavy losses followed by a modicum of advance when the guns were captured and many Borealunder combatants killed. It was true, but...how true? Is that how Able would write about Birchurst? About Kettlebrook?
"I was almost useless," Capstone said. "I couldn't carry any of the wounded out of range, so I grabbed the smallest crates of medical supplies, and when those ran out, I crawled into the collapsed officer's tent to salvage papers. What was I to do then? Hold the hand of a dying man and tell him if only his officer had done this or that, this would not have happened? I realized I better served them, my people, my company, as a friend and not some high-minded critic. So I trained with them, fought with them, and wrote report after report highlighting how short-handed and under-supplied we were rather than the mistakes that were made. Maybe someday there would be time for grand ideologies and reformation. Maybe I'll have something to say about it, if I'm still alive by then. But if I'm going to survive, if any of us are, we're going to need the company, the rules, the trust. No one has any use for outsiders."
Able had been told this all his life in one fashion or another. His gaze sank heavily to the table, his head bowing from the weight of an impossible directive. There had never been a side that made him want to stop being an outsider.
"Then again, perhaps you've already found something smaller and realer than high-minded ideals to sustain you," she said lowly.
Heat rushed into Able's cheeks, but he raised an eyebrow at her anyway. "What exactly did Green tell you?"
"Enough." She grinned, probably the first smile he'd ever seen from her. "Probably not everything. I told her you probably found her desperation unseemly, given the class difference."
"Well...it didn't help."
"I wonder if you think the upper class has special protections, and that is why you want so badly for him to be royalty." She looked musing, almost wistful, at the bare wall across from them. Letting her guard down or merely trying to make him think so?
"Nothing he's told me has made it sound like that's the case," he cautiously replied.
"Right, he said he was hiding from the king, you said?"
"Do you think that's a hole in the story?"
She shook her head. "I don't know. The gentry do live by more relaxed laws than the rest of us, but this might be something even they cannot get away with."
That heavy note hung in the silence, neither of them with anything more they were willing to say. Able let his eyes close again, strangely willing to doze off. He may have before the opening door startled him back to wakefulness.
Tanner strode in and up to the table. "He wants you."
Capstone barely glanced at him. "He wants someone who has, in fact, read the codices? How unexpected."
"Just go," he replied tersely. Why was he letting that go unchallenged? Prickles crept over Able's arms and up his neck.
Capstone collected her files and stood. As she walked to the door, she almost lazily added, "He'll be pleased to learn the witness was most cooperative." Hand on the knob, she paused just long enough to catch Able's eye. All she could do before she closed it behind her.