“I’m afraid Lord Obermal is at dinner,” Wallace said carefully.
“Then I think you should fetch him,” the old man said. “As I said, this is a matter of some urgency. I wouldn’t be wasting my evening begging at gates were it otherwise, would I, Mr. Wallace?”
If possible, Wallace went paler still. “I—”
“Perhaps you could show us to his office and we could wait for him there?” the old man suggested helpfully. “So Lord Obermal doesn’t have to come all the way to the gate?”
He punctuated this last bit with pointed lean on his cane. Wallace took the hint. “Of course, Lord Whitefall, of course.” He looked over his shoulder. “Higgins!”
The younger guard snapped to attention.
“Take our guests to the treasury office. I’ll go and fetch Lord Obermal.”
The younger guard saluted and ran to open the gate for the Council Auditor and his guard. “This way, please, Lord Whitefall.”
The old man smiled his thanks and hobbled into the palace, his cane clicking on the cobbles. His bodyguard went next, followed by Wallace, who walked with them just long enough to make sure Higgins was taking them the right way. When he saw the younger guard leading them up the stairs toward the treasury office, he grabbed a pair of guards from hall patrol and sent them to watch the gate. His duty satisfied, he ran to find Lord Obermal before things got any worse.
Fifteen minutes later, Lord Obermal, Keeper of the Treasury of Osera, excused himself from dinner with the Crown Secretary and the Officer of the Queen’s Horse and set off for his office at a dead run.
“You’re sure they said the National Obligation Audit Division?” he said, panting at Wallace, who was jogging beside him.
“Positive, my lord,” Wallace said.
The treasury keeper made a noise like a mouse getting stepped on. “Audit officers, and a Whitefall no less, here at eight in the evening! Oh, there must have been some terrible mistake. I don’t know how. I reviewed all the numbers myself. Did he say what payment he was here to inspect?”
“No, my lord,” Wallace said. “But he made it seem deadly urgent.”
“It’s always urgent when it comes to the Council and money,” Lord Obermal said, voice trembling. “The queen will have my head if we get audited now, what with everything going on.”
Wallace jogged ahead to open the door to the treasury office. “I had Higgins put them in the receiving room,” he said as Lord Obermal rushed past him. “Anything else I can do for you, my lord?”
“Yes,” Obermal said, grabbing a stack of ledgers from his assistant’s desk. “Don’t tell anyone about this until I’ve had a chance to talk to the queen. We can’t afford a panic.”
“Understood, sir,” Wallace said, stepping back into the hallway. “Good luck, sir.”
Obermal nodded and took a deep breath. Then, hugging the ledgers to his chest, he walked through his office and into the receiving room.
“Lord Whitefall,” he said, trying his best to sound like he wasn’t panicking. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. I have all of Osera’s payment records right—”
He stopped, the account books slipping as his fingers went slack.
The receiving room was empty. Obermal stood frozen for a moment as his brain switched from one panic to another. When he could move again, he turned and ran for the hall as fast as his old legs could go, shouting for Wallace.
“There,” Eli said, peeling the fake beard off his face as they walked briskly through the back halls of the palace. “What did I tell you? Not even ten minutes.”
“Fine, you were right,” Josef said, unbuttoning the stuffy longcoat. “How did you know it would work?”
“Have you ever been through a Council audit?” Eli said, taking off his spectacles. “Nasty, expensive business, and the auditors are the last people you want to be out of sorts. That’s actually the third time I’ve pulled that scam. Works every time.”
Josef rolled his eyes. “Uh-huh, and why do I always have to be your bodyguard when we do these things?”
“Because, my dear Josef, you are a fighter, not an actor,” Eli said with a smile. “The only expressions your face can produce are surly and murderous, so I have to cast you in rolls that highlight those particular aspects. Also, since I have about as much chance getting you to leave your swords behind as you have of convincing me you’re lead soprano at the Zarin Opera, it seemed the most prudent course of action.”
Josef shook his head. “Why do I even bother?”
“I haven’t any idea,” Eli said, grinning wider. “Where’s Nico?”