Chapter 48

Water for what hurts: Take an ounce of rosemary, two ounces of lavender, a half ounce of marjoram. Cover them with a quart of good quality brandy and let the herbs steep together for at least one week. Distill for a water that is good to use for a rub wherever it hurts. It is also good for skin problems, and smells pleasant. Something I always keep on hand.

Recipes from the Kitchens of Comrie , edited by Mella Cowrie. Recipe by Gan Thistleberry

Byrony looked at the team at the table. “I need you to help me stay straight on this one, and make sure I’m not letting my own preconceptions run wild with me on Mistress Greenleaf’s disappearance.”

“What do you mean?” Asper asked.

“This too has a Harani connection. So many little things we are investigating seem to brush up to that area. Dead addresses. The possible connection to Sinter Acquisitions. And now, Mistress Greenleaf disappeared after visiting the greater Harani area. Last time she was seen was in Runi Blahn.”

“Mighty close to the Gray Lands,” Balston said.

All eyes turned to Haran. The Jinn rubbed the back of his neck. “I can’t add a whole lot to what you know about that part of the world. It’s true I was born in Harani, but I lived most of my life in Meridae and on the White Isle. I might be able to add a little about Jinn folkways, but even there I’d probably be suspect.”

“There was a murder in the Gray Lands earlier this year. Someone had used Blazendraught on one of the Aos Si who was mining there.”

Asper shuddered. “I’ve seen what that does to someone who wasn’t Dragonkin. It’s not a pretty sight.”

“It certainly wasn’t.” Haran closed his eyes and shook his head, chasing out his memory of the death scene he had found. “It was obvious that whoever did this was looking for something, but we haven’t been able to discover who’s involved or what they were searching for. Interestingly, the murder took place shortly approximately at the same time Violetta Greenleaf was in Runi Blah. And Runi Blah is the closest town to the freehold.”

“Do you think there might be a connection?” Haran asked.

“No sign of her at the murder site when we got there. But a group of Jinn had made a trip to the mine, something they did on a semi-regular basis to trade with the miners. They’re the ones who discovered the murder. By the time we got our field team out there, the Jinn crew had long gone.” Haran looked down at his papers. “This is not the first time there was an event at the freehold. Shortly before the first missing persons event happened, an excavation team had found some old artifacts, pre-Sundering. As they were leaving, there was an attack that pretty much wiped out most of them, and destroyed the mine buildings. It was supposedly an attack of Gallu, an occupational hazard in that part of the world, but because of the nature of what the team was trying to send back, there’s always been some suspicion that someone else orchestrated the attack.” Haran shrugged. “We really don’t know if that attack ought to be part of our investigation. But another interesting point we discovered in our initial investigation about Greenleaf is that she was very close to one of the people at the Freehold. He wasn’t exactly part of the research team, but he too disappeared during the attack. No body was found. For a long time, we just assumed he had jumped into no space, even though it’s hard to do in the Gray Lands. No matter what, nobody’s heard from him since.”

“This person was Dragonkin?” Haran asked.

“Yes. He had been working with B&F for several years in the jump stone division. We assume this is where he and Greenleaf initially met.”

“What else do we know about the woman?” Asper asked.

“Let’s see. Her secondary schooling was at Master Gwaher’s school in Comrie. First she studied with the Alder Branches on the White Isle. Later, after she finished that course of study, she moved on and started studying with the Fireburners.”

“Interesting,” Haran said. “Not that many people do two fields of expertise.”

“She evidently had a knack of some sort, because B&F hired her right after she graduated. Interestingly, this is the second connection to Comrie that our case has, although in this case it’s probably just coincidence. Gwaher was the headmaster of the school where Greenleaf was a student. Interestingly, she was in the same class as Elaine Allyns, noblewoman of Allynswood, whose husband is part of the Birch’s special forces.”

“She was also the schoolmate of Gan Thistleberry who later came back to the school and became headmistress of the lower grades,” Asper said. “My cousin was working at the Comrie DIC office when all that happened. He used to complain about how often Thistleberry would come back to nag about the investigation on his disappearance. She seemed to be under the impression we weren’t doing anything about it. That might have been my cousin’s fault. He kind of suspected that Thistleberry might have arranged his disappearance in revenge for being rejected in love. It was part of the local gossip that Thistleberry had an...unusual...relationship with him.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Byrony said, sighing. “And now, we might need to ask her and Lady Elaine what they know about Violetta. This is why the DIC manual has all those maxims about prejudging.”

“She’s not at the school any more,” Haran said. “The Redwing Clan, who are the dominant donors to the school, put another person in charge of the school, someone who Thistleberry couldn’t work with. She’s now living on a small farm on the Allynswood estate.”

“And you talk about Dragonkin politics. Daoine clan politics are something I’ll never fathom.” Byrony got up from his chair, and walked up to look at the map hanging on the wall. “How did you find out?”

“One of our younger people is planning to train with her this spring. She just happens to be Lady Elaine’s sister, so we learned all about it.”

“Funny how one person can be so connected to so much happening on the big stage, and not be a part of it. But at least we won’t have to deal with the Comrie DIC. Even if your cousin moved on, Thistleberry has to have bad memories of that place.”

“You’re probably right about that,” Asper said. “My cousin, well just let’s say he’s not the best diplomat out there. This is why he got moved to Creche security.”

“Oy,” Balston said.

Asper chuckled. “Keeps the rowdy young ones in line. They’re still as boneheaded as we were at that age.”

“Speak for yourself, man,” Balston said.

Asper gave his partner an evil grin. “I was.”

Byrony found the River Glint on the map, and then his spikes flashed a warm color that reflected satisfaction. “Ah, we may be in a bit of luck. That area is watched by the Goblin Market DIC. It’s just a small place, in between Meridae and Waterford by Glint, the type of place DIC tends to station dead-enders. The lead investigator there fits that perfectly. He’s a long termer up to his neck in the local sanctioned smuggling trade and wouldn’t know how to do a proper investigation if his life expected it, but there’s a talented, personable young first year there. I knew his father, and his uncle is pretty respected in his own work at the Willowick Academy. Young Umber worked with me on the smuggling operation as my aide. Maybe we can make more headway if we ask him to make contact first. If Witstone gets to her first, it could really wreck things.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“Or you could go,” Haran said, looking at Byrony.

“We’ll save that for emergency backup. Master Investigator will have my butt if I don’t stay here reading all the reports.”

“Ah, reports. The bane of our life,” Asper said.

“At least you’ll get to leave,” Byrony said. “Plan your itinerary. Pick your staff. Talk to Rust and get busy. And let’s see if you can prove that I’m crazy thinking that there must be a Harani connection. Or that maybe, Haran is right, that all this is hiding something else. Good hunting!”

----------------------------------------

In Goblin Market, Gan nimbly got out of the horse cart.

“Have a good time shopping,” Rob told her. “If you need me, you know where to find me.”

“Have a good time talking to your special friend,” Gan said, with a big grin and a little wave. “But don’t let her leave before I get there. I want to meet this Lily of yours.”

Rod gave her a sheepish little smile, and colored a little. “I’ll try,” he said, and with a shake of the reins, headed off to the stable.

“So remember, Rosebud, stay near me. It’s a long way back to Pixie Hollow for a Pixie. And a hawk or a cat might get you before you got home. If you get tired, you can go back to sleep in my bag.”

“Hawks? Cats?” There was a note of panic in the pixie’s voice. She dove to the handle of Gan’s bag and sat on the the puckers of the pulled closed drawstring. “Could you open it a little bit, please? Maybe I’ll just peek out through the top.”

“If you want.” Gan loosened the drawstring enough for the little woman to slip through. For the moment, Rosebud leaned against the puckered fabric, her arms crossed in front of her. It reminded Gan of a student she remembered from the previous year, who would lean against a window sill when she was homesick, and it made her take a deep breath, remembering the child. She chased the thought out of her head with a quick breath. “Just remember this is a bag of holding, and I might be shoving all sorts of things in there. You might want to stay focused on the pocket you took your nap so you don’t get buried under everything.”

Rosebud nodded. Not sure if the little pixie even heard her, she began to walk down the street to start her shopping.

The street was filled with bright banners and interesting signs. The first they passed had a finely carved sign that announced proudly “Gavon’s Woodworks.” Inside a man skillfully was planing wood.

“Well one thing we don’t need right now is more furniture,” Gan said, but watched the craftsman for a bit. “Still, he looks very skilled. I’ll remember that.”

Next to the woodworker, there was a dressmaker. Since Gan made her own clothing this didn’t interest her at all. But next to that was a shop that announced itself as the Sweet Place. Gan smiled as she walked in – there was a counter filled with a rainbow color of candies – red, blue, green, purple, white. The smells of mint, licorice, strawberry and other flavors tickled her nose.

“Oooh,” Rosebud said, lifting out of the bag. “It all looks so delicious.”

“It all is, Mistress Pixie,” said the woman behind the counter. “Hello to you two. I’m Sella Cabris. You must be Gan Thistleberry. I had heard you had moved into Pixie Hollow.”

“I am,” Gan said. “How’d you know?”

“Oh, word like that gets around.” Sella said. “I’ve been hoping you’d drop by. And here you show up with a Pixie. You only have one here?”

“Only one, and she got here by accident.”

“Just like a Pixie.” Sella turned to the tiny woman and smiled. “Would you like a taste of what I sell?” She held out a tiny little candy, about the size of a sunflower seed.

Rosebud looked at Gan. “Is it all right?”

“Yes, tell me what you think of it.”

The Pixie took the tiny morsel and took a bite. “Oh!” she said, floating up. “It tastes like sweet strawberries!”

“I have other flavors, too. Melon, blueberry, rose, tea and cream…”

“I think I need a bag of those,” Gan said, rather amused by Rosebud’s reaction. She also bought several other sweets, and tucked them into her bag, putting a little ward on them to keep Rosebud from eating them all before they got home. Rosebud, sulking just a little, went back to her perch in the bag.

The next shop had an even stronger smell that drifted through the door. Must be the herbalist,” Gan said.

“It’s stinky,” Rosebud said as they walked through. Some bells rang as Gan closed the door.

“When you keep this many plants together, that’s what happens,” Gan said.

The shop was dimly lit. The walls were lined with jars of herbs, woods, seeds, jars of oils and tinctures. The counter had a large scale, a small scale, several mortars and pestles, things for sifting, jars and papers. But there was no person behind the counter.

“Coming!” came a man’s voice from the back.

Gan walked around looking at the stock on the shelves, impressed with the selection, when the owner pushed through a curtained door and stepped into the room. “Good morning,” a pleasant male voice said, deep and resonant, “How can I help – ”He stopped, as if surprised. “Gan, Gan Thistleberry, is that you?”

Gan turned around, and saw an older Jinn man. His chin was clean-shaven, but his long, dark hair fell in carefully groomed ringlets, adorned with blue ribbons at the bottom. His skin was the swarthy dark of the Jinn, and his eyes were golden, like secret fire. When Gan saw him, she broke out in a big smile. “Kalishi Myron! I didn’t know you were living in Goblin Market!”

“Oh, I have been, for the last five years. Didn’t I mention that at the last conference? The one where Jimma Braeswood tried to convince us all that Spider Weed was the latest cure-all for magical anemia?” He gave her a big hug. “It’s so good to see you. But you’re a long way from Comrie.”

“I’m not there any more. I live on the Allynswood estate now.” Gan said.

“Trouble at the school, or did you decide to retire?” he asked, moving behind his counter.

“It’s complicated. There’s a new headmaster, and he doesn’t approve of my approach to practical magics.”

“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that,” Kalishi said. “Well one good thing is I hope I get to see you more often than at the Summer Conference.” He rubbed his chin. “Are you going this year? It won’t be the same place if you don’t show up.”

“I haven’t decided yet. What with the moving, and the Pixies and - ”

“So it was you who moved into Pixie Hollow!” He smacked himself in the forehead. “I was wondering who was brave enough or stupid enough to move into that place.”

“Hey!” said Rosebud, rising up out of her perch in Gan’s bag. “That’s not a nice thing to say about Mistress Gan!”

Kalishi stared at the tiny woman for a moment. “I would never say anything bad about Mistress Gan, small thing. I was wondering who would have the audacity of making a home with so many of your folks. Usually, Big Folk and Little Folk don’t live well together, but knowing Mistress Gan, I suspect she has taken you all in and made your life lovely. Am I not right?”

Rosebud, who was staring back at him angrily, blinked twice, and all the anger drained out of her face. “How...how did you know?”

“I’ve known Gan for many, many years, small one. I bet she bakes bread and pie and stuffs you with soup, too. And cookies, sometimes, too.”

Rosebud’s eyes grew wide, and she flew over and landed on Gan’s shoulder. “Is he a farseer? Can he read our minds?”

“No dear, Master Kalishi is an apothecary. One of the best in all Ynys Afel, and Goblin Market doesn’t know how lucky they are to have him here. He could open a shop in the Capital, and people would be flocking to him.”

“I have better things to do than put up with the games of Daoine nobility,” Kalishi said, crossing his arms and scowling, “any more than you do, Gan Thistleberry.”

“And we know the Willow Leaves have been after you for ages.”

“The same as the Goosequills wanting you.”

Gan shivered. “To be stuck on White Isle...no, it’s not for me.”

“The same here. The Willow Leaves can have my journals and recipes. I’ll give them that much. But people like you and me, we just don’t fit into their molds.”

“Agreed.” Gan reached into her bag and pulled out a list. “I need to replenish my supplies. Can you handle this today?”

Suddenly, Kalishi was all work. He read her list carefully. “I don’t know if I have enough cat’s eye herb, and I’m fresh out of Tobrian Tonic.”

“Are you getting some more in?” she asked.

“I’m supposed to, in a few weeks, they promised.” He sighed. “It’s hard to make. I hear they had a...misadventure with the last batch. I hope nobody was injured. I hear it can get quite explosive if it’s fermented wrong.”

“How odd for a potion that’s so good in steadying the nerves and reducing fever.”

“Funny, isn’t it?” He stroked his chin. “Yes, I can bundle up the rest of it for you. It’ll take about half an hour.”

“Ah, that works. I have some more shopping to do. I’ll come back for it before I leave.”

He nodded, and began to reach for his scale. “It’ll be here when you come back.”

“Let’s go, Rosebud,” Gan said, to the little Pixie who had gotten brave enough to start examining the jars on the shelves.

“This is such a strange place,” Rosebud said. She flew over to Kalishi. “Why do you people collect so many dead leaves?”

“We have all sorts of good uses for them, small woman. They help make us well, they make things smell better, and they make food taste better.”

“They do?” she sounded doubtful. She turned and looked at Gan.

“They do,” Gan said. “You eat some of it every day in your soup. Thyme and marjoram and savory, among other things.”

“Must be different dry leaves than the ones I ate.” She drifted down to Gan’s bag. “Bye, Master Apothecary.” She waved.

“And farewell to you, small woman. Take care of Mistress Gan. She’s a very special person.”

“I do! I will!” she said, and disappeared into the bag. “Time for a nap!”

“Well, I’ll let you get on with filling my order,” Gan said. “I’ll be back!” And with a final wave, she headed out of the store.