Galahad walked up the cold iron stairs of the outer Iron Stomach. When he arrived at the top, there was a woman looking into the holding area down below. She was fairly tall, with black hair and icy blue eyes. After having seen both Viviene and Tielman, Galahad could safely say this woman had inherited the best traits of both.

  “Is that him, Suzanne?” Galahad walked to the observation area. “No obvious discrepancies?”

  Below, Willem stood in a metal pavilion surrounded by iron stakes of arcane, esoteric purpose. They were blocked from view by specialized enchanted glass. If one were magically attuned, they could see various energies pulsing in and around the room.

  Thus far Willem had done exactly as directed, standing right in the center. There were various instruments designed to restrain and fetter, but they were of yet unemployed. Provided Willem didn’t buck, they wouldn’t need to be.

  “It looks like him,” Suzanne confirmed with a nod. “But reading that letter? I’ve got my suspicions. I’ve got my damn suspicions. Maybe he took calligraphy lessons, but his handwriting was never that neat.” She looked over. “So… is the king serious about granting him amnesty?”

  “People always doubt His Majesty,” Galahad noted. “I’m not sure why. It’s in his interest to give amnesty to the people that have participated in plots on behalf of Avaria. If he provides valuable information that disrupts serious espionage efforts, he’ll be pardoned.”

  “That’s not quite what I asked,” Suzanne said. “I know my brother. He might be in… quite deep. How much is the king willing to overlook in the pursuit of punishing spies? If, goddess forbid, the poisoning is partly his fault… if something even worse was in the works…”

  Galahad looked at her thoughtfully. “Perhaps you shouldn’t be here, then.”

  Suzanne shook her head. “Don’t mistake my curiosity for hesitance. I would’ve called Willem a friend, once. But five years… people can change a lot in five years. And the man didn’t send one letter to me in all that time.” She took a deep breath, gathering herself. “I didn’t expect him to, knowing him as well as I do, but… still. Whatever happens, I can do what needs to be done.”

  “Good,” Galahad said. “All he has to do is answer a few questions about his role in things. If it’s not too major… he’ll be forgiven. Now, stay here.”

  Galahad walked back down to speak with Willem, leaving Suzanne to watch from above. He brought with him the letter that Willem had sent, running through the questions that the king had ensured that he would ask. Soon enough, he was standing back with the man.

  “Got what you need?” Willem asked, gesturing. “Well, sure you do. That’s my letter. When I’m rich and famous, you can sell that for a fortune. Frame it on your wall.”

  Galahad ignored the banter and snapped his finger. A tendril of magic surged out, catching Willem. The man flinched away, but settled down.

  “I now have a partial grasp on your psyche,” Galahad said.

  “The hell does that mean?” Willem asked incredulously. “You going to ask me about my feelings, prescribe some medicine?”

  “Should you lie, I will know,” Galahad explained simply.

  “Oh. Fine by me. I never lie, except when I’m joking,” Willem said confidently. “Grasp as hard as you want.”

  Galahad was surprised to learn that Willem thought that was the truth. He looked at the paper, and then back at him. “I trust this letter wasn’t a joke. Now then… to verify the information. You claim that Baron Tielman was poisoned by Avarian agents. Is this true?”

  “Yes,” Willem answered. “Real treacherous fellows. Imagine that… poisoning someone. Couldn’t be me. Definitely couldn’t be me. This person standing right here? They definitely wouldn’t do something like that.”

  Galahad narrowed his eyes at the strange phrasing, but the spell told him the man wasn’t lying. “You claim that Dorothea Rook is an agent of Avaria, and conspired to kill you tonight by staging a duel with Arend Rook. Is this true?”

  “Yeah,” Willem answered again. “Entirely unprompted, too. I never did anything to them. I have to assume it’s base envy. Whether it’s my peerless demeanor, unsurpassable managerial talent, or humility, I can’t rightly say. Ugly game, envy.”

  Galahad wondered if Willem should have a mental evaluation… but maybe excessive self-regard wasn’t a mental illness. “Uhh… very good. Now… you claimed this was part of a larger plot to eliminate House Brugh, and thus prepare to invade the north.”

  “That’s true,” Willem said. “War’s bad for business. My business, at least. I’m sure Karel would jump for joy. Not that I’m suggesting anything, just commenting,” he clarified.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  Galahad folded up the letter and put it inside his robe’s pocket. “Alright. Now, to codify your role in this. Have you ever been an agent of Avaria?”

  “Not knowingly,” Willem answered.

  Galahad was surprised it was true, and almost thought to look back at Suzanne.

  “Did you have anything to do with Baron Tielman’s poisoning?”

  “I was there when it happened, but no,” Willem said. “How long is this going to be? Maybe I should sit.”

  “Not much longer,” Galahad assured. “How did you come by this information?”

  Willem looked at Galahad. “I’d rather not say.”

  “You’d rather not say,” Galahad repeated. “Are you defending an agent of Avaria, Willem?”

  “A traitorous agent of Avaria,” Willem said. “…but yes. I doubt you’ll be able to catch them at this point. Probably already scooting back to the north. That’s fine, isn’t it? You promised amnesty. I think you can overlook that much.”

  Galahad inhaled deeply, a little surprised by the man’s gusto. Under ordinary circumstances, there’d be a long torture session in store for Willem. But not only was he a noble… Suzanne was standing back there, watching.

  “Not for me to decide,” Galahad said begrudgingly. “I’ll speak to the king. Oh, yes—King Arnoud is aware of you. And your judgment will be sent down by him. But for now… your sister wanted to speak with you.”

  “Catharina?” Willem said.

  “Suzanne,” Galahad said. He looked up, and gestured for her to come down. “She wanted to catch up.”

  ***

  “Willem,” Suzanne greeted. After so long of not seeing him, he looked… different, somehow. She couldn’t quite place it. Perhaps it was merely age.

  “Suzanne,” he said in turn. “Heard you wanted me castrated.”

  Suzanne laughed. “Just a joke. I always used to tell you that, remember?”

  Willem stared at her, not a flicker of recognition in those eyes of his. That was strange. Perhaps she was the only one that truly treasured that memory.

  “So, why are you here?” Willem asked.

  Suzanne laughed at what she assumed to be a joke, but Willem only looked at her in confusion. “You’re… kidding, right? You know why I’m here.”

  “Presumably you walked,” he said. “You might’ve crawled, but I’ve only seen you walk. Beyond that, I’ve no clue.”

  “I’ve been apprenticing with Galahad for four years. I told you that was where I was headed before I left,” she said. “It’s only natural that I’d have access to his facilities. Are you…” She looked at him suspiciously. “Are you alright? Rattled? I thought the interview went fine. I think the king’ll overlook a minor infraction like that, so you don’t need to worry.”

  “How long will it take for the grand sovereign to render just judgment upon the loyal vassal that threw himself at the feet of justice?” Willem said. “I do have some things to do.”

  “You’ve always been impatient. I figure we could catch up,” Suzanne said, sitting down. When he didn’t move to get comfortable, she reminded him, “You know, you’re trapped in here. You can ignore me, or we can talk.”

  Willem eventually sat down cross-legged across from her, then gestured. “Go ahead.”

  “Why don’t we start with you?” Suzanne asked. “My story’s boring. Magic, magic, more magic… but you. Suddenly, father gets poisoned, you disinherit yourself, go to Gent, start a business… and now you’re living with Mom? What?” She pointed. “You have to start talking, Willem.”

  “Well…” Willem scratched the back of his neck. “Where to begin?”

  ***

  As the conversation carried on, Suzanne received a very distinct impression.

  This isn’t my brother.

  At first it had been mere oddities. Not remembering a joke they always used to make was one thing—sure, someone could forget that. But it kept being more and more things, continually catching her attention. From there, she started asking him deliberately probing questions. And… without fail, he didn’t have a good answer for a single one.

  Galahad wouldn’t have missed the fact that her brother had been replaced by a shapeshifter. The Iron Stomach, in particular, was something that was incredibly adroit at detecting those manner of beings. It had been built for the purpose of ferreting out any magic trickery. If he was a changeling of some kind, there was no way that she’d notice anything where her master couldn’t. But…

  He doesn’t know who the hell I am, Suzanne realized. He’s barely engaging with anything that I say. He’s trying to turn the subject back to himself, and away from us.

  Once she was certain, she didn’t know what in the world to do. Embarrassingly, she dithered. She worried that if she confronted him, he might give up his guise and attack her or something similar. Despite his mental changes, the aura within him remained strong. He had passed the lie test, and so he wasn’t an agent of Avaria, but…

  Something is seriously wrong with his head, Suzanne accepted. I mean, Willem was never normal… but it’s like he’s forgotten everything!

  All of the magic in the world indicated that Willem wasn’t a shapeshifter of some kind. But… that wasn’t Willem. Galahad could miss it, but she never would. There were countless things he couldn’t remember, simple facts that he’d forgotten. Their personality was similar enough, but only on the surface. Diving deeper, he had changed so much that it seemed too large a gap for a mere five years.

  Once Galahad is back… I’ll confront him, Suzanne decided.