Fists of Justice (Schooled in Magic #12)

She stood, turning so she could hug him. “We can’t,” she whispered. “Not here.”

Caleb nodded in grim understanding. His arms wrapped around her, running down her back…her body thrilled to his touch, even though she knew it was dangerous. She met his eyes, seeing regret clearly written there, then let go of him and stepped back firmly. They couldn’t be caught, not now. Even finding an inn would be problematic. She rubbed her face clean, hoping her lips didn’t look too puffy. They had work to do.

She jumped as she heard someone shouting at the bottom of the stairs. The racket was so loud that she thought, just for a second, that they had been caught. And then she turned and hurried down the stairs. Someone else – Markus, probably – was already coming down from the top floor. Caleb followed her, his footsteps echoing. The noise grew louder as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

“And I’m telling you that I have every right to view his papers,” a young man was shouting, despite an older man trying to restrain him. “He was my father!”

“And I’m telling you that this building has been sealed,” a guardsman was saying. “Sir, please leave…”

The younger man looked past him. “Lady Emily,” he called. “Can we talk?”

Markus clattered down behind Caleb. “Tryon, I’m afraid this building has been sealed.”

The younger man shot him a nasty glance, then looked at Emily. “Can we talk?”

“I suppose.” Emily didn’t want Tryon – Tryon Junior, she assumed – interrupting the accountants. “We’ll find a room.”

“Thank you.” Tryon bowed low, then rose. “This is Vespers, my family’s advocate.”

Lawyer, Emily translated.

“There’s a room on the second floor,” Caleb said, turning to lead the way up the stairs. “I’m sure it will be suitable.”

“Of course,” Tryon said.

Emily studied Vesperian’s son as they walked up to the meeting room. He was tall, but otherwise he looked like a younger version of his father. And yet, there was a nervous energy about him that would have worried her, if she’d met him five years ago. He looked as though he would lash out at any moment. She reminded herself, firmly, that she had more than enough magic to stop him in his tracks if he tried anything stupid.

“The will has been read,” Vespers said, once they were seated. He had a plummy voice that put Emily’s teeth on edge. “The controlling interest in Vesperian Industries has been passed to my client. I must therefore ask that you refrain from any further disruption until my client takes possession of his heritage.”

Emily cursed, mentally. She should have asked Harriman to join them. He was the one with real authority.

Markus leaned forward. “I have a question,” he said. “Are you filing a legal demand that we stop inspecting the account books?”

“They’re mine,” Tryon said. “I’m the one who decides what happens to them.”

“The information contained within the accounts may also be confidential,” Vespers added, smoothly. “My client and his investors would be most displeased if certain details were revealed.”

Emily exchanged glances with Caleb, then spoke. “Has your client been following the details of his father’s investments?”

Tryon colored. “My father handled all such matters himself!”

He stood and started to pace the room, as if a chair couldn’t contain his nervous energy any longer. “I was groomed to succeed him.” He turned to look at Emily. “And I will not allow anyone to get in my way.”

Markus snorted. “Do you understand the codes your father used in his account books?”

“There are accountants to handle the details,” Tyron insisted. “That’s what they’re paid to do!”

“Yes, I suppose there are.” Markus looked at Vespers. “The Guild Council granted the investigation commission wide latitude to open the account books and carry out a complete audit of Vesperian’s finances. As you are no doubt aware, such a commission can only be overruled by the Guild Council itself.”

“Such a commission is only legal if the city itself is at risk,” Vespers pointed out.

“The city is at risk,” Emily said, quietly.

“Nonsense,” Tryon thundered. He glowered at her. “My father loved this city!”

“The figures are clear,” Markus said. “Tomorrow, your father’s corporation will be expected to pay out upwards of twenty thousand crowns in repayment of investments, not to mention his debts to various industries. So far, we have been unable to uncover anything like enough funds to cover the debts. Your father’s total free cash, as far as we have been able to determine, is somewhere around two thousand crowns – a respectable amount, to be sure, but not enough to cover his debts.”

“Impossible,” Tryon thundered. “My father was a great man, his dreams destroyed by small-minded fools…”

“The preliminary report will be presented tomorrow.” Markus’s voice was even. “We may uncover more cash reserves, but I have my doubts. Vesperian could have settled most of his debts if he had the cash.”

“You’re lying,” Tryon said. His gaze switched to Emily. “This is all your fault, you…”

Vespers elbowed him. “What my client means to say,” he said smoothly, “is that it was reported that you made considerable investments in the track.”

“Such reports are lies,” Emily said. “I invested no money.”

“My father wouldn’t lie,” Tryon said. “I demand…”

“You can make your demands to the Guild Council,” Markus said. “I’m sure they will make the best possible decision, once you’ve stated your case. Until then, the investigation will continue.”

“I’ll own your bank by the end of the week,” Tryon snapped. “You’re not an accountant, you’re not even an advocate! The lawsuit will…”

“I would advise you to grab what you can and flee the city.” Markus’s expression twisted into something that could charitably be called a smile. “But seeing you probably wouldn’t take my advice, I won’t bother.”

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