Thinking of his father's voice calmed his hands. It soothed his mind. His father's voice had accompanied him alongside Casimir on the walk down Hawser Street to tend to Lena's father. He had loved his mother dearly and missed her as much if not more, but his mother had been a harbormaster's daughter, and so had known little of his trade, other than she was proud of him.

Would she be proud of you for dreaming of murdering that girl? Have you considered that you sent Casimir away because you knew what it would do to the boy if he saw you do this awful thing? If that isn't the sort of thing you want to teach the boy you took as an apprentice, then why are you even considering it?

Ammas closed his eyes. The ewer began to overflow, ice-cold water spilling over his hands. He let it spill, savoring the sting and growing numbness of his fingers. Behind his eyelids he could see his father's study, lined with thick and ponderous tomes filled with Imperial, religious, and foreign law, smelling sweetly of kossun smoke and seretto tea. Beyond the windows stood the brightly lit Gallowsport night, the waters of Hangman's Harbor lapping at the docks. His father had never been fond of that city, but it was where the Curia stood and so he had made his home there, though he was far from the first Mourthia to do so. Ammas had liked it no better and had not been there since the Academies were broken, but his visits home from Sailor's Crown remained cherished memories.

That night -- there were many of them, and in his memory they had flowed smoothly together into one night that had both never happened and had happened many times -- Senrich Mourthia had been helping his son study for his first examination on Imperial law, which Ammas had been dreading like a visit to the headsman's block.

I don't understand why I need to study it in the first place, papa.

Cursewrights do a lot of things on the margins, Am. They have no choice. Knowing how to skirt the law is as important for them as knowing how to follow it.

You don't like the cursewrights, do you, papa?

They're necessary. I could never do what they do. I respect them. But a lot of people -- people who should know better -- romanticize them. I'm afraid some of the cursewrights do it themselves.

I won't do that, papa.

I know you won't, Am. They do things I don't always approve of. And I will not lie to you: sooner or later you'll do something I don't approve of. But do it in the way your mentors teach you. Do it in the way that seems most just, even if it is not precisely legal. Do that and I will always be proud to call you my son. Even if the bar of seer-magistrates invites you to sit for the First Tribunal and you refuse, or even if you fail thrice, I will be proud of you.

His heart had swelled with pride and love for his father at that. Before he fell from grace, Senrich Mourthia was almost as feared as the Emperor himself. But to Ammas he was just his father.

Here in the now, in that ragged garden, Ammas held the ewer to his lips and took a long sip of icy water. Until now he hadn't realized how hot and dry his throat had become. In his mind his father began to pepper him with questions, as rapid and curt as if it were the First Tribunal itself.

The prisoner stands accused of putting a werewolf to death. He is a member in good standing of the fellowship of cursewrights. He did not perform the ritual necessary to diagnose the creature's condition. What is the sentence?

Did he --

What is the sentence, Ammas?

Death by hanging. But did he --

No. A cursewright is given license in all Imperial jurisdictions to make the determination all on his own whether a werewolf is what it is. With that in mind, what is the sentence?

Hard labor, six months. Inform the fellowship of cursewrights so they can investigate him. Revoke his notice of Imperial consent.

I would have given him a year, but six months is acceptable. Good. Now --

Papa, can I ask a question?

If this were the First Tribunal you could be failed just for saying that, Am.

But it's just a regular exam.

Ask your question.

Did the cursewright -- er -- or anybody -- confirm it was a werewolf after it was dead?

Did I give you any reason to think it wasn't a true werewolf?

No, papa.

Did I say anything to make you think the matter was disputed?

No, papa.

Then why would you think it was?

Because . . . because my masters say cursewrights have to be thorough to make sure they don't try to treat a liar or a madman. Because the treatments can kill people who aren't really cursed. And so they know what to do next if their prescribed treatment doesn't break the curse or if they've misdiagnosed it. Some demonic possessions present as the wolf's blood sickness, for instance.

Your cursewright studies are going extremely well, Ammas. Doyenne Sulivar has told me so many times. I'm sure she would be proud of you for knowing these things so young. Not to mention for having the sheer nerve to argue the point with the Overseer of the Curia at your age. But try to think like a seer-magistrate right now, not a cursewright. Someday you'll have to be able to do both.

Yes, papa.

Now. Same situation, but the prisoner was impersonating a cursewright. What is the sentence?

Death by hanging. Inform the fellowship of cursewrights so they can investigate if the prisoner stole any of their secrets.

Again. Same situation, but the prisoner was impersonating a cursewright and is highborn. What is the sentence?

Death by beheading, inform the fellowship and the noble house to which the prisoner belonged.

Do you inform the prisoner's house before carrying out the sentence?

No.

Good. The prisoner is a cursewright in good standing, failed to perform the ritual, and the victim was not in fact a werewolf. What is the sentence?

Death by hanging, inform the fellowship of cursewrights to investigate the matter.

Same situation, but the prisoner is of the House of Deyn. What is the sentence?

Death by beheading, inform --

No, Ammas.

Papa, there aren't any Deyns in any of the fellowships or colleges or anything.

Well, in fact there are more than a few by marriage. And perhaps my question is unclear. I specifically mean that the prisoner is of the Emperor's family -- one of his children, his nieces or nephews, his brothers --

Only one of his brothers is still alive, papa.

We speak of theoretical matters. What is the sentence, Ammas?

Papa --

I don't like it either. But tell me the sentence.

Detain . . . detain the prisoner, give him to the custody of the Chalcedony Palace, inform the Emperor or the Grand Chancellor, and let them deal with the matter from there.

And by what law is that decreed?

None. It's the Emperor's wish.

The Emperor's wish. How much misery was a direct result of giving the Emperor his wishes over the years?