Page 53 of The Malevolent Eight

The answer to that question is:Well, if there’s no secret threat, then you’re a total moron for having got so wound up in your little conspiracy theories and it turns out you’re not remotely qualified for your job. . . or. . .

‘Nay,’ said Propriety. You’ll have noticed how the word ‘no’ always becomes ‘nay’ when a sense of pompous self-importance fills the speaker. ‘Nay, brave Gallantry. That we two shou—’

‘Wethree,’ Corrigan corrected. He jabbed a thumb at his own chest. ‘Also filled with dread, remember?’

Propriety smiled tolerantly. ‘Indeed, Brother. That we three above all sense the unfolding villainy means it must be far worse than we had imagined.’

Here’s the thing about conspiracy theorists: they don’t really want you to agree with them; they want you to attempt to refute their claims in such a way that lets them appear both logical and brilliant.

‘Nay!’ I said myself, and strode over to the banner laying upon its marble altar. ‘Look you here!’ I demanded, gesticulating wildly over the banner. ‘My revelation incantations show this to be the true banner!’ I turned, swinging my arms wide, ‘Here it lies, encased within the mighty walls of this fortress with only a pathetic attempt by some minor infernal and her yapping hound—’

‘Noble beast,’ Corrigan insisted.

There’s such a thing as being too loyal to a fucking kangaroo you met only three weeks ago.

Nonetheless, I used the interruption as my excuse to walk back to Propriety and grab him by the gleaming shoulder pauldrons. ‘If there is a conspiracy to steal the Auroral Banner and yet it lies here, in this vault inside this citadel, built and garrisoned by a Lord Celestine– a citadel whose construction even now confounds my ignorant mind, for it seemed an ill-considered project from the outset, yet who am I to question the wisdom of a Lord Celestine?– then, friend. . .’ I laughed bitterly. ‘What explanation remains other than that we three are mad?’

Removing one hand from Propriety’s shoulder, I made a subtle gesture to Corrigan that it was his turn. He started approaching, clenching his fists in preparation for, I presumed, knocking out the Ardentor. I had to give him a more panicked gesture to remind him of theactualthing he was supposed to do now.

‘Oh, right,’ he muttered, then took in a deep breath and bellowed, ‘By the Auroral Song!’

Propriety and I both turned to Corrigan in confusion.

‘Don’t you see?’ he asked, then pointed maniacally at the banner upon the marble altar. ‘What if the conspiracy has already worked? What if the conspiratorswantedthe banner in this vault, in this citadel precisely because. . .’ He waited for Propriety to jump in, but the Ardentor still looked confused. ‘Because. . .’ Corrigan repeated.

Oh, hell, don’t fail me now, Propriety.

‘Because. . .’ I breathed.

‘Auroral Sovereign preserve us!’ Propriety swore, his vehemence greatly reassuring me. Suddenly he looked positively terrified, glancing all around the empty vault as if we were surrounded by enemy forces, which was, I hoped, precisely what he did now believe. ‘The very Lord Celestine who orchestrated the creation of this citadelisthe secret Lord Devilish!’ He clenched his fist so tight the knuckles turned white. ‘The Celestine of Rationality is our traitor!’

‘Seriously?’ Corrigan asked, then elbowed me in the ribs. ‘You have the worst taste in women, Brother.’

‘What?’ Propriety asked.

‘He said, “The war’s hastened this ill omen”,’ I tried.

‘Indeed,’ the Ardentor agreed heartily. He gazed around the vault as if the walls were oozing with evil worms. ‘Far from being an Auroral sanctuary, this citadel is the Infernal stronghold!’

The nice thing about large square rooms with marble walls is that they’re excellent for reverberations. You could almost hear the echoes of ‘This citadel is the Infernal stronghold!’ repeating as the three of us stood there in silence. I swear, Propriety was so certain of his pronouncement thatIwas starting to wonder whether maybe, in fact, the creation of this alleged Auroral Citadel really had been an Infernal conspiracy all along.

‘The perfect ruse,’ Propriety said, walking in circles around the vault as if he were the Justiciar investigator, not I. ‘To use Infernal forces to erect a citadel in the middle of Auroral territory, to have the Auroral Banner itself brought here, all with the unknowing complicity of a hundred Glorians!’

I made a show of his words filling me with patriotic urgency. ‘By the Auroral Song, not while we three survive! We must get the banner to safety!’

Propriety darted to the altar, snatched it up and offered it to me. ‘You must take it, Brother Gallantry! I will seek to delay the soldiers here as we cannot be sure who are faithful and who are Infernal imposters.’

The gold-fringed ivory cloth fairly gleamed in the dim light suffusing the vault, its majestic beauty suggesting a myriad supernatural powers conferred upon whosoever carried it in battle. Alas, it was just a pretty banner– a memento, if you will, of the day the twelve Lords Celestine took over the Auroral Hierarchy. The tremendous significance it held for both the Aurorals and the Infernals was entirely symbolic, a reminder that, in the eternal clash between theologies, vanity can be the most potent power of all.

‘Nay, nay, Brother Propriety,’ I said, refusing to take the banner. ‘You know this citadel far better than we do.’ I gestured to Corrigan. ‘Brother. . . Impotency and I shall create a distraction so thatyoumay remove the banner from this nest of vipers. Get thee from this unhallowed place into the city. Seek out the meekest of temples you can find, for surely that is where true faith is most powerful. If the Auroral Sovereign is not yet done with us, Brother Impotency and I will meet you there.’ I held up a warning finger. ‘But tarry not for us. If we do not arrive within the hour, flee the city and find you other trustworthy brethren.’

Propriety stared down at the banner in his hands. ‘But how shall I knowwhomto trust?’

I took his other hand and placed it on my chest. ‘The same way you knew to trust us, my brother, because your eyes, your hands, yoursoulis blessed with the insight to perceive the truth, no matter how unlikely or convoluted it might appear to lesser minds.’

He was so touched by my words that his glow got another glow on top of it. ‘I will never forget you, Brother Gallantry, Brother Impotency.’

I couldn’t quite summon a tear to my eye, but I made a show of determined resignation: a great guy who knows he’s about to die but won’t say it. I let it hang there a second before I shoved Propriety out the door of the vault. ‘Fly, you fool!’

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