Page 44 of Stardust Child

“Then where are the devils coming from?” Ophele asked rhetorically. None of them knew the answer, but her guards were as interested in the puzzle as she was.

“Might be more Vallethi witches we don’t know about,” said Sir Davi darkly, preceding her into the storehouse.

“It could be.” She didn’t like that idea, though, if only because it would be nearly impossible to prove and almost as impossible to remedy. That would just be unfair. “I wish I had books about magic,” she said, a lament already familiar to her guards. “There weren’t any books in the library at Aldeburke…”

But the issue of the Empire’s lack of magic was a separate problem. Technically, she had already satisfied Remin’s requirements; she had pages upon pages about the devils’ appearance and behavior, and all the sketches Master Didion could possibly want, extensively annotated and carefully ordered. She was beginning to compile the information into something like a treatise, but was so anxious about structuring it properly that she had already rewritten the beginning six times. In all that sea of information, however, she had yet to prove her own hypothesis.

“Do you think we might get some of your fellows to come in?” she asked the sawyer when they had completed the interview, trying not to sound too eager. “You have been so helpful, if I could just speak to a few more people…”

“Don’t think so, lady, sorry,” he said, gruff but not unkind. “Sight o’ buildin’ to be done afore winter, to say nothin’ o’ firewood. Takes time to get over here, y’know.”

“I do,” she said, trying not to sigh. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“No reason why we can’t go see them ourselves, lady,” Davi said when the man was gone, rousing himself from his usual corner.

“My lady,” Sir Leonin reminded him, for all that Davi was seven years his senior, but did not otherwise contradict him.

“We could?” She looked from one to the other, her heart leaping. “His Grace wouldn’t mind?”

“Only a few places he said not to let you visit,” Sir Davi replied with a shrug. “Seems to me that means everywhere else is fine.”

“So I could go to the wall? And the north gate? And talk to the woodsmen? Or maybe the barracks, all of His Grace’s soldiers are there, but oh, he did say he didn’t want me to hear them swearing…” Ophele trailed off with rising excitement rather than disappointment. She had never imagined that having guards might afford hermorefreedom.

“They’d be pleased to help, my lady,” Sir Davi assured her. “Though probably best to ask His Grace all the same.”

“It would only take a few minutes each,” she said, mostly to herself as she looked down at the notes from her most recent interview. “Even if it were just a moment, when they stopped for a drink…how many men are at the barracks?”

“About four hundred this time of day, lady. My lady,” Sir Davi corrected at Sir Leonin’s basilisk stare.

She could cut her list of questions down. All the men had begun telling her the same thing over and over again anyway; packs of ghouls, solitary wolf demons, clever, cowardly stranglers. She didn’t think that pattern would change greatly no matter how many men she interviewed. Now she wanted dates, places, numbers. Five minutes per man? How many questions could she ask in five minutes?

Gazing into the middle distance, Ophele pondered the problem. It wasn’t just the matter of asking questions; it would take quite a bit of research afterward to turn their vague answers into something useful, but…oh, if she could do it!

In her excitement, she found herself standing in front of Sir Edemir before she had a chance to think better of it.

“Sir Edemir, would it be possible to have maps of the valley made?” she asked. “Ones that I could write on? With labels of all the major battles and towns and forts, and natural formations? And the mines. And the caves.” The ideas popped into her head as she spoke them. “Eight copies?”

“Eight.” Until now, Sir Edemir had given her whatever she wanted, but this time he paused. “That’s at least two days’ work, my lady. Is this the work you’re doing for Rem?”

“Yes. I don’t think I could fit it all on one map, it wouldn’t make sense,” she said hesitantly. “I need a map for each spring and fall for the last four years. But the scholars will like it, I think.”

“Even if we have to send it to them by post,” he replied, a wry smile creasing his broad face. “Very well. I’ll lend you Devranot this once. Rem will have to tell me what work he wants delayed before I give you more.”

She nodded. She wouldn’t dream of asking for Remin’s work to be delayed for hers. “Oh, but…the almanacs?” she remembered, hoping this did not constitute another favor. “For the last four years.”

“I already sent for those,” he said, looking amused. “Anything else, you’ll have to wheedle it out of Rem yourself.”

“I will, thank you!” She was barely paying attention to the last part and almost bumped into Sir Davi in her hurry to get back to her desk. She had work to do.

She was still at it when Remin returned to the cottage that sunset. Relocation had barely put a dent in her concentration; Ophele didn’t even hear him open the door.

“Wife?” he said, and almost made her heart burst from her mouth and plop into her teacup.

“Oh! Remin,” she said, turning to accept his kiss. He was still sweaty from training, and she squawked and squirmed away as he tried to embrace her. “No, you’re all sweaty! I’m sorry I didn’t hear you come in; I was working.”

“So I see,” he said, noting the many ink-blotted papers scattered across the small table. “Is all of this about the devils?”

“Yes. It’s a treatise.” It sounded ridiculous to her own ears; what did she know about a treatise? “LikeThe Will Immanent.Mr. Aubriolot defined the divine in the first treatise almost like he was talking about an animal, what it looks like and its behavior and so on. Though maybe that’s not nice to say,” she added, wondering what exactly constitutedblasphemy.“Would you like tea?”

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