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“Wardens? IhateWardens. Colossal bell-ends, every one. Why have they got Wardens at Swanstone?”

“I’m told the Haelan and Warden Orders have some sort of agreement,” said Mrs.Parson. “Healing for protection, and vice versa.”

“How many Wardens have they got at Swanstone?” asked Osric.

“Three or four at any given time.”

“That’s a bloody inconvenience.” Osric observed the map of Swanstone’s grounds. “I see now that approaching Fairhrim with this bribe might require someone with a particular skill set.”

Mrs.Parson nodded. “A bit of skulduggery wouldn’t go amiss.”

“One of my specialties, as it happens.”

“Quite.”

“Right,” said Osric. “Where’s my cloak? I’m off to bribe. And if Fairhrim refuses, I shall proceed with kidnap.”

“A classic, sir.”

“What’s the nearest waystone to this Haelan fortress?”

“Closest pub is the Publish or Perish.”

“Excellent.”

Cloaked up, gloves on, and hair attractively tousled, Osric set off to the waystone.

At Swanstone, duggery was skulled.

The Haelan Order was headquartered on an island at the frigid arse-end of the Danelaw. The white fortress of Swanstone, with its snow-tipped battlements, seemed to scowl defiance at Osric as he approached. Mrs.Parson was correct: Aurienne Fairhrim was well protected. She and her Order were literally ensconced in ivory towers.

Osric waited until dusk began to lengthen shadows before making his approach. The fortress itself worried him less than the Wardens.Infiltration was one thing; infiltration with Wardens present was another. Their Order specialised in defence and the violent dismemberment of intruders. They were an exceptional foe for a naughty Fyren here to bribe a Haelan.

However: Osric was exceptional, too.

He took the shadow-way up the ramparts and tucked himself between the wings of an enormous stone swan to observe. He spotted the hulking figures of Wardens—two of them below, two upon the ramparts with him—gleaming in armour. There were also a dozen Swanstone guards on patrol. One of the Wardens on the ramparts had her lightshield on, bright between the chinks in her armour. A shadow-walker like Osric wouldn’t be able to get within stabbing distance of her.

But today—rare thing—Osric had no intentions of stabbing anyone. He was here to play nice.

A few white-clad Haelan crossed the courtyard below. To Osric’s eye, the entire place suffered from an extreme of the aseptic: dry, functional, pure. Even the snow, arranged in fine lines by the wind, seemed intentional in its placement, and sanitised.

Below the snow, the courtyard gleamed with protective wards. Thick, glowing lines of the Wardens’ seith crisscrossed the flagstones as they patrolled.

Osric watched the Wardens pace out their rounds for an hour before venturing forth. Then, taking exquisite care to avoid the shifting wards, he melted into the darkness at the foot of a battlement, and glided from shadow to shadow until he had made it into the fortress proper.

It took him two hours, but he triggered no wards, and didn’t kill anyone.

Champion.

Mrs.Parson’s pilfered floor plans informed Osric that Fairhrim’s office was in the lofty north tower. He traversed the fortress to find it, passing a nursery crammed with crusty, crying infants, and a large room whose sole purpose seemed to be the collection of children’s corpses.

Couldn’t they bury them? Morbid sorts, these Haelan.

No—there was audible groaning—the children weren’t quite dead. A group of Haelan bustled past Osric into the room. None of them was the unsmiling woman from the daguerreotype. He carried on down the corridor from shadow to shadow, evading the occasional guard as he went, pleased every time that it was a mere man, and not another Warden.

At length, a placard informed Osric that he had reached the Centre for Seith Research. A promising place to be, given his condition. There was a sick ward here, as well as examination rooms full of ominous-looking apparatus. While most of Swanstone seemed still dependent on gas, these rooms were fitted with electricity and diverse seith-powered contraptions.

There were less corpsey patients in this sector, which was encouraging.