"Charles Stross - Examination Night" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stross Charles)

Sebastian shuddered. "It was an interrogation, nothing more. The palace had a
surfeit of conspirators to dispose of and considered the scaffold too inflamatory in the current
climate of opinion. Lord Kerein was entrusted with the teaching of the highest and darkest
arts, and the summoning of the three-in-one was apparently mandated to the University by
your own – by the Invigilators. For purposes of forewarning, should there be another
unspeakable invasion plotted in the abyss, your order has instructed us to pursue a series of
summonings and interrogation of daemonic forces. Not to control the daemons, you
understand – nothing so questionable – just to summon and interrogate. We receive a
bursary, and in return if we learn anything of the Dark we pass it on."
Anya removed her palm from the jug and Sebastian filled his tankard. After a moment
he remembered to glance up at her; she nodded slighty and he emptied what was left of the
wine into her cup.
"Now tell me," the Invigilator continued, "what is your own status in these events? As
sole incumbent student of the diabolic arts, not to mention apprentice to the dean, it seems
spurious to suggest that suspicion logically falls upon your neck..."
"Never." Sebastian took a deep draught of dutch courage and collected his scattered
wits. "Oh, the inquisition questioned me, but they decided that my heart was pure and my
strength was that of ten righteous men, or somesuch nonsense."
"Which would tend to suggest that the righteous are going to get their heads kicked
in," Anya observed drily. "Pray continue. What cause would you attribute to the inquisitor's
death?"
"I don't know," Sebastian mumbled. "His skin turned into many little cancers of the
brain. They think he died of the pain; all those nervous sinews... I didn't do it. Why should I
look into their heads? It's none of my business; I'm to be sent down on the morrow for
refusing my exam, isn't that enough for you?" He shook his head, refraining from making any
mention of his own worst problem. "All I want to do is drown my frights and forget my troubles
and you come and drag me up from the gutter and pour acid truth in my ears! Where do your
demands end?"
"Not here," she snapped, momentarily letting her anger show. Sebastian recoiled
from her. "You forget that I have a task to accomplish, and it is not to be countenanced that a
lack-liver apprentice shall refuse the holy duty of Invigilation!" She moderated her tone before
the other customers had time to more than turn their heads. "Remember the specifics of the
academic charter you studied under. Your tuition was given to you without fee because the
treasury of the Ministry of Lost Souls, the Invigilation, paid for the upkeep of the University.
The term of reference was that you should in return render to the Invigilation such services as
could reasonably be required of you while you study within the said institution. Do you now
repudiate that vow, scholar? You, who as the sole scholar of the daemonic arts are
undoubtedly aware of the cost of such a broken oath?"
Sebastian stared at her, and felt the noose tighten around his throat. "But I'm to be
sent down."
"Yes, but not yet. Need I remind you of the termination codicil to the charter?"
He bowed his head. "You are signing my death warrant," he whispered. The fingers
of his left hand traced an esoteric shape in the air above the table: a thin smoke drifted from
his fingernail beds as he began to shiver in the grip of a premature hang-over.
"At least you can do one thing right," Anya said, begrudging even a suggestion of
approval. "But a heavy drinker like you must have frequent recourse to that skill, no doubt."
Sobering up, Sebastian gave a climactic shudder and gasped; his teeth rattled in his
jaws and his vision popped into sharp focus, then blurred again. The iron band around his
forehead relaxed and the taste of carrion slowly departed from his mouth. "It only speeds
things up," he said hoarsely. "By the seven-fingered sisters of Hyss, I feel worse now than I