The Last Sin

I reached for the handle of my cane. Castille clamped an iron grip on my forearm, giving me a quick shake of her head, her lips pressed into a thin line.

I did the math. It was four on four. They would have brought more guards along if they wanted to ambush us. Maybe the inquisitor was just that confident.

I eyed the woman sitting at the side of the room. She was younger than I expected, wearing an all-black uniform with black riding boots and gloves. I was sensing a theme. Her black hair was impossibly straight, the ends falling over her shoulders while a blunt fringe covered her forehead.

She sipped from a grey metal goblet, putting the cup on a low table in front of the sofa to reveal ruby-red lips.

"You may enter."

I took half a step forward before catching myself. Yes, she was confident, with a voice as smooth as velvet. She assumed her authority—I wouldn’t give it to her. She smiled, accepting my challenge.

I exhaled and unclenched my fingers around my cane, nodding to Castille to release me.

We filtered into the room, sitting on white cushioned furniture on the opposite side of the Inquisitor while Dugan stood behind us. Dew walked around the Inquisitor, sitting at his desk at the end of the room that overlooked the seated people. His guards flanked him on either side.

We checked the enchanted book the night before. There was only one new announcement about increased beastkin raids across the countryside.

The inquisitor stared at us, memorizing our faces, our clothes—how we moved. She was another predator, but I was getting used to this game.

"When did you get into Steeltown?" I asked.

The inquisitor looked at me, quirking an eyebrow.

“Jacob Sin. As bold as described, I like that. You can call me Reed.”

She picked up her goblet, taking a long draw of a red liquid while we waited.

Wine? In the morning?

She put the goblet down.

"I arrived a few days before you and your friends."

So, she did have people watching for us.

"You caused quite a bit of trouble outside the capital. Rugar was very angry."

"Do the Sanctifiers take orders from merchants now?" Castille asked.

The Northern woman leaned back in her chair, one foot on the low table. Sometimes, I wish I could be more like her.

Reed flashed a tight-lipped smile.

"The Sanctifiers don't take orders. We are mediators, and Rugar is a valued client. Unfortunately for him, so are you."

My shoulders tensed.

"What do you mean?"

"High Sanctifier Alden Able has taken an interest in you, Jacob. Once I investigated the incident and found out you were involved… special considerations were made."

"Which are?"

She gave me an innocent shrug.

“Who knows."

My stomach twisted in knots.

What were Alden and Rugar planning to do to me?

"Then why are you here?"

"To protect our investment."

"Does that mean you're going to help with our quest?" Isla asked.

Reed turned to Dew Able, who sputtered at her sudden attention. Regaining some control, he spoke.

"In regards to the heavy metal curse, the Sanctifiers are neutral. While we receive sizable… donations from our clients in this town, we cannot deny the opportunities of an uncursed Dellend. Therefore, we will not go out of our way to help your quest but will not impede it either."

Castille scoffed.

"What business is there in a place where the spirits cannot be bound?"

Dew Able flashed a nervous smile.

"Landbound contracts are only one aspect of our business. We provide contracts of all kinds. In this unfriendly political climate, we are the closest thing to the law."

"Speaking of politics, I hear you’re going to the Lagos party tonight," Reed said.

"How did you know that?"

"This is Steeltown. The only thing that spreads faster than illness is rumours. It looks like we'll get another chance to talk. I'll be going as well.”

Great.

"I hope you're not going dressed like that."

She pointed at me, her mouth twisted into a frown.

I looked down at my clothes. My once fine coat had seen better days from the month of fighting and hard travel.

Reed pulled out a card and slid it across the table.

"Take this. It's the address for the best tailor in Steeltown. Tell him Reed sent you."

I picked up the card.

"What's the catch?"

"No catch. We can't have our investment not look the part."

I flipped over the card, quirking an eyebrow as I slipped it into my pocket.

Isla coughed to get the Inquisitor's attention.

"Um… While we're here, can we use your archives to investigate the curse?"

Reed looked to Dew Able, who squirmed under her gaze.

"I - I don't see why not."

Isla relaxed beside me. The feeling was contagious. We had gotten everything we wanted, more if the message on the card was to be believed. Castille was right… again.

I sighed as I got to my feet.

"If that's all, I think I'll be going."

I moved to the door, and the rest of the party followed a few steps behind me as Reed's dark eyes tracked me across the room. At the lip of the entrance, she spoke.

"One last question: When your party escaped Rugar's men, who created the fog around Miller's Hill?"

I stiffened, turning back to see Isla's shocked face in front of me. The noblewoman was right; she was a terrible liar. Luckily, her face was turned away from the Inquisitor.

"It was me. I did it."

Reed leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as her eyes bore into me.

"Really?! I see why the Alden likes you."

She flashed a smile that didn't reach her eyes. The Inquisitor knew I was lying but liked how well I did it. I shivered as I left the room.

"I need a bath after dealing with that one," Castille said as we walked to the foot of the staircase.

Dugan nodded in agreement, one hand on his axe head as he eyed the shadowy corners of the Guildhall’s second floor.

"I'm just happy to make it out in one piece," I said.

Castille slapped my back.

“Who knew you were such a VIP?!”

I snarled.

“I’m not. I think they want to use me to get to the elves.”

Castille frowned.

“Oh… I don’t like that.”

“Still, we need them. So, let’s play nice for now,” Isla said.

Her face was pale, and her eyes unfocused, looking off into the distance.

The Inquisitor had shaken her. Spirits below, she had shaken me. What was I thinking covering for Isla? That’s not something Sin would do.

“Isla is right. We stick to the plan. The boys go to the party, and Isla and I…”

Castille looked around at the shelves of thickly bound tomes. She sighed, letting her shoulders sag.

"We’ll stay here.”

“Try not to get too excited,” I said.

Castille grimaced.

“I’m missing out on a party to read books."

"I know… isn’t it great?" Isla asked.

Castille looked at Isla and laughed; a deep belly laugh made the Sanctifiers below us look up and sneer.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad with company. Be careful, you two.”

She tousled Dugan’s curly hair.

"I was going to tell you the same thing.”

As Dugan and I turned to walk down the staircase, someone tugged on my sleeve.

“Isla?”

"Thank you for taking the blame. You know, for Miller’s Hill.”

I smiled at her.

"No problem.”

It won’t be happening again.