“Ah,” Anla said, covering her thoughtful smile with hands pressed to her mouth. “The Baroness is a clever woman!”

“Why do you say that?” Raulin asked, moving a lit lantern from the wall hook to the table where they were meeting.

“Well, us ladies sat outside, drinking chilled tea and gossiping about things. They spent a lot of time discussing the murders in the area, some of the details, theories, and victims. I think she knew the Baron was going to ask for a contract with you.”

“Ladies gossip about murders?” Al asked.

“Oh, you’d be surprised what women talk about when men aren’t around. We don’t want to damage your delicate sensitivities.” She scrunched her nose at him.

“Br’vani women I could imagine, but Ghenians?”

“Tektornians,” Raulin offered.

“Ah. What exactly did you discuss?”

“At first it was about how frightening it was for young women to walk around by themselves at night, even in small towns. Then they commented on how it had gotten worse: not just young women, not just at night, not just alone. All ages of women had been taken at all times of the day, from their homes, with friends, in front of their neighbors. They were whisked away, there one moment, gone the next, missing until their mangled corpses were found sometimes weeks later.

“To them, the Baroness and her future daughter-in-law, this is like some monstrous force they cannot stop, some looming cloud on the horizon. No one knows where the killer will strike next. No one knows what they can do to stop him. No ones knows who the next victim will be.”

Al sat back in his chair for a moment, looking up at the ceiling. “Perhaps our best course of action will be proactive instead of reactive. We need to conduct meetings with the towns giving them regulations and systems to follow. What do you think, Raulin?”

“Wonderful idea. We can start here in Quirr.”

“I can look at any maps the Baron has, to pinpoint any patterns, check them against a calendar.” He looked at Raulin.

“That sounds great.”

“Anla, I think you should write down everything the ladies told you so we can review it and check out whether those rumors can be substantiated.”

“I’ll do that tonight before I go to sleep,” she responded.

“Good. I’ll go speak with the Baron, if that’s all right, Raulin?”

“If it’s all right that I go speak with the townsfolk.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea,” he said, walking away from the patio to the hallway that led to the den.

“Hmm, what’s going on there?” Anla asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“That’s a lie.”

“The wizard is under the assumption that I am in charge of this investigation.”

“You’re not?”

“The Baron needs an investigator, an organizer, someone to puzzle things out and apply education to a situation. These are not where my strengths lie. They are Al’s, however. I recommended the Baron hire him with my glowing recommendation. The wizard was under the assumption that he was accepting on my behalf, because I was at my contract limit. I would like this to be an opportunity for him to gain experience and would prefer if we thought of him as the leader of this contract.”

She gave him a smile that started small and grew the more she thought about his words. “I like that, Raulin.”

“I know some men prefer being lackeys, always number two, never getting the credit for their work. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think he just needs a little shove in the right direction.”

“It may be that he prefers not to be in charge,” Tel countered.

“And if he shows any sign of that, I’ll be sure to sweep in and take over. It’s a huge responsibility; I know he may flounder. But I’ve seen him in these situations before. He shows initiative, he has brilliant ideas, and he acts on them.”

“Ah, this is because he doesn’t have confidence in himself, which you feel is wrong.”

“Well, not wrong, but unjustified. Do you think I’m doing too much?”

“I think Alpine has gone through a lot of change in the last year and he hasn’t given it much consideration. I have to wonder how he will be when things finally settle for him.”

Raulin nodded. “And I’ll keep that in mind.” He picked up the lantern and hung it back on the hook. “I spoke with the Baron about your sleeping arrangements, Tel. You are free to use your room or sleep anywhere outside that you’d like. However, he feels that you might be bothered by the workers in the orchards and fields, so he recommends you avoid those places.”

“Thank you,” he said, standing. “There was a grotto near the northern part of the house that felt comfortable to me.”

After he left, Raulin helped Anla up. “You said you liked the idea. Any objections now?”

“Tel makes a good point, but I think Al coddled himself for a long time and cut himself off to many opportunities. There’s no harm in letting him try this.”

They spoke of this for a few more minutes until they were outside her door. “I’ll leave you for the night, though I may sleep outside your door in case the killer try for you.”

She gave him a smirk. “There are better places to protect me.”

“Inside the door on the floor?”

She hooked her finger around the collar of his shirt and pulled him into her room. As soon as the door was closed and his mask off, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down. Their lips met in a soft kiss, one arm around her waist and the fingers of his other hand tangled in her hair. He tried walking her towards the bed and felt her leg fall back and push her weight against him. He stopped, still kissing her, still holding her. She moved them so she was pushing him, stepping closer until Raulin hit the bed with legs and sat on the edge.

He knew what he would have done, had their positions been reversed, standing in between her legs and pressing her down. Instead, like a splash of cold water, she sat next to him. She did twist his face towards her and kissed him deeply, but didn’t move. And after a few minutes she stopped.

Raulin had stopped overanalyzing situations like this long ago. Had he done something wrong? Had she remembered something that bothered her? Did the wind shift slightly in an unfavorable direction? It didn’t particularly matter. What mattered was what he did next and what she wanted, which was apparently to lay facing away from him. He laid next to her, kissing her neck, then moving his lips down to her shoulder blades. Again, she stiffened and pulled away. He moved his arms to her shoulders and his lips back to her earlobe and she relaxed again.

He thought of the situation like a man spotting a doe in the woods; so long as he didn’t make any sudden movements, he would be allowed to be in her presence. Raulin got the sense that things had simmered, that she didn’t want passion but compassion, not caresses but to be held. Disappointment tinged his breath. Some other night, then.

After one last kiss at the juncture of her jaw and neck he moved and laid on his back. She turned, surprised, and moved into his arm. “What makes a man kill women like that?” she asked quietly.

She was worried? “I don’t know. We’ll find out, though. We’ll find him and make it so he’ll never kill anyone again.”

“It’s reassuring sometimes to see that underneath the propriety, Ghenians are much like elves. Those two woman sat there, steering the conversation, laughing, reassuring, but they both were scared. They knew that there was nothing to separate them from anyone else. They’re people who live lives assured and protected. And, of course, it’s their women who are being brutally murdered, so they feel angry and protective. This is how elves would react. We’d form groups to hunt the creature down and feel vindicated letting the living victims take flesh and fingers from the man’s screaming body.”

“’Living victims’? Are you saying he let some live?”

“One woman escaped by playing dead. She crawled back to the road, but won’t speak to anyone besides a few words.”

“We need to speak to her, immediately. You do,” he said, turning his head towards her. “You’ll need to use your magic to calm her and get her to tell us what we need.”

She frowned, her thoughts shifting. “I should have done that with Jeurd. Analussia was still so fresh in my mind that I didn’t want to touch it and chose what I felt was the only other path. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, though he appreciated it.

“It was a waste anyway. I got nothing from it at all, save the money.”

“It was a nice gesture and things worked out in the end.”

She laid her head on his chest and her breathing deepened quickly. He was always impressed by how fast she could fall asleep. He moved some of her hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. The moon was almost full and cast enough light through her window to bathe her face in its white light. She was so peaceful.

It was only when he was relaxing into slumber that the stabbing pain of jealousy decided to blossom in his chest. He could pretend to be as noble as a virgin knight, and that talk they’d had in the cell on the ferry had been, but the fact was it still burned him up that she had slept with Cavrige. Him of all people.

His jaw clenched until he realized something she had said that shed some light on things, perhaps everything. “I got nothing from him, save the money.” She hadn’t done it for the money; she had slept with him to get information. But that was it. Nothing else. Raulin would put good money on Cavrige being a poor lover, like so many other men. Like maybe every man Anla had slept with before.

The strands began to untangle for him. He had been jealous of Cavrige, of her former beaus, of the imaginary men in Mount Kalista, because he assumed she had enjoyed herself, that she had determined he was not the one to make her happy. But what if she had never enjoyed herself? What if she thought of being bedded like many other women, as some five minute occasion where she would shut her eyes and think of what to buy in the market for tomorrow’s dinner while her lover got what he wanted? And, of course, if that’s how it had been with everyone else, surely it would be the same with him. She didn’t know he would treat her better, that it wouldn’t be like that.

He wanted to shake her awake and ask her, talk to her about this, but how exactly would he have that conversation? It was something best left to touch; words would be tripped over and the whole thing embarrassing. Well, still, even if he turned Caudet-red he’d still try to stammer out what he meant, what he wanted for her. And she’d know he meant the truth.

He kissed the top of her head, wanting so badly to not just make ecstatic in that way, but for everything else, too. He wanted anniversaries, he wanted thresholds to carry her over, he wanted to hear about the gossipy neighbor who said something rude to her. He wanted to hold her when she cried, he wanted flour smudges on her nose, he wanted to hold her hand when she gave birth.

And inside his chest something broke into a thousand pieces, the beautiful music of shattering playing from heart to fingertip.

He wanted her hand.

He breathed in so slowly, feeling the gathering of tears in his eyelashes. A choice. Don’t say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ yet, he told himself. Take away her ‘ifs’ and really think about it. Think about the day upcoming in mid-June, some three to four months away, leaning on a ship’s railing. Anla is on the wharf waving goodbye, just like Alisse in Arouk, just like Freise in Kitstuar. Would that feel the same, the ache of knowing you’ll never see them again tempered with the resolve of knowing he had to?

No, he told himself. No, he could tell the difference, even now, even with her uncertainty. She wasn’t just a lover, she was the love of his life. If he was ever going to take a wife, it would be her and it would be before he left Gheny.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

It meant either subjecting her to a life of hiding and moving or leaving the order. He recalled his conversation with Isken about leaving, how he had wanted to leave as well and his plans. It wasn’t such an impossibility.

Well, he had a few months to think of something. For now, he enjoyed the settlement of having made a decision and fell asleep as peacefully as Anla looked.

* * *

Al didn’t even hear the footsteps around him of the servants starting the morning routines. He did haphazardly pour himself another cup of tea, sipping it while his eyes continued to flicker over the pages. Messy. Everything was messy. He needed to put his solid information aside on that table, the facts, then the things he was working on, then everything else nearby.

“Wizard?” he heard from behind him.

“Ever hear a pearl drop? Or a bead, a marble, a piece of hard candy?”

“Yes, I’m fairly sure I’ve heard one of those. Wizard, did you…?”

“There’s some regularity to the dates of the attacks. There were two young men, just into adolescence, that were attacked first. Those don’t fit. But, give or take a day, it’s been a month, a month, a month, a month, a month, a month, three weeks, three weeks, three weeks, two weeks, two weeks, a week. He would have attacked someone yesterday, likely in this area of Tektorn,” he pointed to an area a hundred miles to the east, “in the towns of Tilgy, Tetrim, Florna, or Rispo Kel. So, like a pearl dropping, it’s getting quicker in between each hit. Dut, dut, dutdut, dutdutdut…”

“Did you sleep at all last night?”

Al sipped on his tea and shook his head. “He thinks he’s being random, but there are circles.” He took out a sheet of oiled paper that he had marked with paint. “Going back to the last three victims, he’s been traveling as far as he can before striking again, as the crow flies. He has no time to settle, to think about things. He goes right for the next kill. Look at how far he traveled! He went from Ammet Starsa to Briglend, about 150 miles in a week through swamps and bayous!”

Raulin drew up the chair next to Al. “How do you know it’s a ‘he’ and not ‘they’? It would make sense if a group of men were coordinating efforts to kill to create fear in the area.”

Al pulled a stack of letters so thick that he couldn’t fit them all in one hand; he needed to sandwich them between his palms. “Some of these letters give very detailed descriptions of the attacks, from medical perspectives. All are done in the same manner. Here,” he said, handing Raulin a letter with a detailed description. “I would be very shocked if a group of men learned how to kill in the same exact fashion. It’s a somewhat unique modus operandi.”

“No, that’s a good point,” he said after he scanned the detailed account. “Us trirecs fight and kill in the same way because our methods are tried and true. It is doubtful a group of men would learn to repeat such a strange series of injuries.”

“He’s got to be a big guy, very strong. I’m thinking he must have a profession where travel isn’t conspicuous, like a courier. I’m completely torn on what he looks like.”

“Why is that?”

“Somehow he’s getting these women separated from everyone else, which means he can’t be too frightening to look at, unless he’s doing so at knife point. But the women are almost always found with looks of fear still on their faces, so something is scaring them beyond the terrible circumstances of what he’s doing to them. The one autopsy allowed showed her heart had ruptured as well as several major arteries and veins.”

“I can’t think of any man being that frightening to look at. Most appear to be scared?”

“Most families don’t consent to autopsies, so it’s hard to tell how extensive the damage is, but a few were reported to have burst vessels in their eyes.”

“This is some grim work, Wizard.”

“I know.”

“Anla told me that the Baroness said there was a survivor.”

Al’s head snapped up. “A woman who escaped from an attack? We have to go talk to her! Wait, why isn’t her statement anywhere?”

“She hasn’t spoken since the attack.”

“I wonder why that is. Do you think Anla might help out here?”

“Likely. You should ask her.”

They were on the road with provisions shortly after breakfast. Al carried a satchel full of quill sets, maps, notes, and certified letters as they took the main road north through Quirr. “Do you think we could make twenty miles today?” Al asked.

“That sounds like a bit too much, Wizard,” Raulin said. “If the roads were cared, straight, and flat, if we didn’t stop for lunch, we’d just make it through a third town by dinner. It would be a big gamble that the town would have an inn with open rooms. I’d recommend against it.”

“I want to get to Ammet Briash quickly. This Ecuila Miren is going to be important for this investigation.”

“She is. And I’m sure she’ll be there tomorrow.”

“This gives you an opportunity to speak with the lawmen of the towns we’ll pass through and implement those recommendations,” Anla offered.

“That’s true,” he said, some of his agitation lifted at the thought.

They found themselves in Sinkelane, the nearest settlement to Quirr, for a late lunch. It was barely a dot on the map, one general store, five homes, and one shrine in the center. Unfortunately for Al, the shrine was tended by one very condescending priest who felt Kriskin would continue to protect the little village due to his ministrations.

Al stormed over to the group after his meeting. “Let’s go,” he said.

“I’m fill eating muh fanwish,” Raulin said, swallowing.

“You can eat it on the road.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you complaining?”

“Because nothing happened and nothing will happen. I’m just some stupid khajit who doesn’t understand how the gods will protect the people of Sinkelane.”

“And the people agreed?”

“People? I did this at the shrine.”

“Who told you to talk to the priest?”

“No one. I just assumed he’d be in charge.”

Raulin stroked his chin and looked back at the village. He stopped when he spotted an older woman in a rocking chair, eyeing the group. He waved and she waved back. “Come, Wizard.”

The two walked casually to the woman’s house and Raulin stopped a few feet from the porch. “Good day, ma’am. Could you tell me a little about your priest?”

She leaned forward, a gleeful look on her liver spotted face. “Brishem? He’s a blowhard.”

“See, that’s what my friend here was discovering. We’re trying to help solve the case of those murders that are plaguing the area. Being the courteous young man that he is, he went to speak to your Brishem first and found that he wasn’t that receptive. Called him names, told him he was stupid.”

“That sounds like Brishem.”

Raulin moved a little closer and leaned on the railing. “Do you spend a lot of time out here?”

“My son and his wife take care of me. Nothin’ for me to do but creak. I do that a lot. Creak in my chair,” she demonstrated, “creak in my voice, creak in my bones.”

“Would you mind a little entertainment, then? Really, my friend just wants some one to keep an eye out for things. Go ahead, Al.”

“Are there a lot of strangers that come through here?”

“Not so much. A few merchants now and then, some carriages, you folk. Never seen a feller that tall before.”

“Oh, he’ll be happy to hear that you called him tall. He loves that,” Raulin said.

“Well, you tell him I think he’s extra tall, then.” She gave a gap-toothed grin.

“Madam, would you mind keeping a record of the strange people coming through your town?” Al asked.

“Oo-ee, I’m ‘madam’ now!” She gave a cackling sort of laugh. “I like that, polite man. I’ll write down people for you. Do you want me to ask for their names?”

“No, no. Be discrete. Just a description. And thank you.”

“You’re welcome, young man. I hope you catch that son of a bitch afore he kills another one.”

“We’re trying our best, madam.”

On their return back to the group, Al asked, “How did you do that?”

“It’s about knowing people, Wizard. Never give a self-important person another task, unless you think he really wants it. Try to connect what you want with someone who wants to do it. We needed a nosy person and we found a nosy lady.”

“So, I shouldn’t bother with constables and mayors?”

“No, no. Definitely bother with them. You don’t want to undermine the top authority, especially if they were waiting for someone to help them out in this situation. Don’t bother with the people who want to make things difficult, who become an obstacle for you. Go around them instead.”

Kindil, the town they reached just before dinner, was much more receptive to the help. Al was granted an audience with both the sheriff and the Baronet to go over his plans and give suggestions for the townsfolk to obey until the predator was caught. They were given nice rooms in the Baronet’s estate. Al crashed and was dead to the world for the whole night.

Raulin didn’t use his. He knocked on Anla’s door and entered when she said he could. She was brushing her hair by candlelight and paused to smile at him when she saw him in the reflection of the mirror. “Quite a busy day,” she said, setting the brush down and turning to stand.

“Indeed. I’m sure there will be more of them. I’ve been thinking…”

Arms wrapped, lips soft, fire jolting down his body. Somehow he managed to both hungrily return the kiss and protest for a moment, wanting to speak with her about all he had thought about the previous night before he gave up. Again, they kissed, again moving to the bed, again sitting next to each other. This time, she sat up and leaned a little so she was above him as they entwined. And she didn’t stiffen when he kissed the back of her neck and her shoulder blades. They did, however, end things well before he was happy and she again fell asleep on his chest. She’s trying, he thought. She’s moving the edge of her comfort a little bit for him. I need to be patient.

They made it to Ammet Briash by mid-afternoon the next day. It took some convincing for Ecuila’s mother to agree to let Al and Anla see her, but she finally relented. “She gets upset,” the woman said. “If she gets too upset, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“We understand, Mrs. Miren,” Anla said.

Ecuila was laying in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Al took the chair that had been moved from the dining room and Anla sat on the edge of her bed. She was a pretty girl, a year or two younger than Anla, her long, black hair brushed out and spilled onto her pillow. Months had healed the bruises and scratches to her face and torso. She adjusted herself and Anla noticed that while her torso moved freely, her legs did not. Her mother had told them that both of her hips had been broken and that she was bedridden until they healed, possibly for the rest of her life.

“Ecuila, hi. My name is Anla and this is Al. We’ve come here to talk with you.”

The girl’s face crumbled and she immediately started sobbing. “No…” she moaned.

“Shh, it’s all right. We’ll only talk about the things you want to talk about.”

The girl continued to look up, her lip turned out and frowning, a pained look on the rest of her face.

Anla tried several topics with Ecuila: her friends, her favorite kinds of foods, her family, what she liked to read. After a while she calmed so that she was no longer upset, but she also didn’t answer anything.

Al leaned over. “We don’t have time,” he muttered. “I need you to use your magic.”

Anla frowned, then sighed. She took the girl’s hand and said, “Ecuila, I’d like to do something to help you, but I’m not going to do it unless you say it’s fine.” She gave Al a pointed look. When she looked back, Ecuila was looking at her. “I can do something so that you never have to think about what happened again. I’ll take your memories from you. Every time you think of the attack, a soft fog will wrap around your mind and you won’t be able to recall what happened. Do you want that?”

She squeezed Anla’s hand hard, pleading with her eyes.

Anla noticed Ecuila’s mother was standing in the doorway. “Al? I need to borrow your pocket watch.”

“Pocket watch?”

“My husband has one,” the mother said, leaving for a room down the hallway.

“What do you need that for?”

“’Hypnotism’,” she whispered. “I saw a man do it on a stage once.”

Anla took the watch from the woman when she returned and began swinging it back and forth above Ecuila’s face. “Eecuilaa, I need you to relax and to listen to me. You need to tell me everything you can remember about the attack.” Her face started to crumple again. “When you think of the attack, you will not feel scared or ashamed. You will answer any questions either I or Al asks. Please begin with where you were right before he attacked yyouu,” she finished, putting the watch down.

Ecuila sighed and her face slackened as she stared off in the distance. “I was walking home from Sarisa’s house for dinner. Mama likes me to be home early to set the table.” Ecuila’s mother let out a sob and pressed a hand to her mouth. “I heard a noise, a twig snap in the woods off the road. I thought it was just a rabbit or a deer, so I ignored it and kept walking. Then, there was a loud noise and pain and I was on the ground. There was a man on top of me. I was dazed and didn’t know what to do.”

Ecuila’s mother sat opposite Anla, holding her daughter’s other hand.

“I thought he was going to have his way with me and I began screaming. He put his hand over my mouth and he pressed down and it hurt. I felt my jaw start to unhinge. He was on top of me, pressing his body against me. I heard the bones in my legs pop. He started digging his fingernails into my shoulder I think I passed out on account of everything, but I woke up a few moments later. I couldn’t move, even though he had gotten up and ran away. I thought he was going to kill me. I thought he was going to steal me and take me somewhere to cut me up and eat my fingers while I watched. Nikeb says the monsters in the Viyaz do that and that’s all I could think as I lay there. It was some time later when I thought that someone galloping in the road might crush my head beneath the horse’s hooves, so I tried crawling back to the ammet.” Her mother’s face was pale, but she still clung to her daughter’s hand. “Ashrith found me and picked me up from the road and ran me to my house. I’d like to marry him some day, but I’m afraid of childbirth now and I don’t know if he’d want me.”

Her mother kissed her hand, a tear running down her cheek.

“Ecuila, can you describe the man who hurt you? Tell me his hair and eye color, his skin color, how tall he was, whether he was fat or fit or thin, if he had a beard or mustache, if there was anything distinguishing about him.”

“He was the same height and weight as the man here, his beard red almost brown, his hair oily and long, but not enough to pull into a tail. His eyes were blue with thick lashes, wide and crazed. There was a piece missing from his right ear, like it was clipped.” Anla heard Al inhale sharply and curse before standing and leaving the room in a few steps.

“Did he say anything?”

“He just told me to be quiet.”

“Anything else you remember that will help us find him or catch him?”

She shook her head.

“Thank you, Ecuila. You’ve been very helpful.”

There was a beatific smile on her face at the praise.

Anla turned to the girl’s mother, giving her the watch back. “I need you to leave while I erase her thoughts on the attack. You’ll need to figure out what you’re going to do after, to tell her what we did today or to pretend like it never happened. I can’t tell you which one of those is right or which one might cause her more pain.”

“She’ll be my beautiful little girl again?”

“She still is your beautiful little girl. Will she talk and be happy again? Hopefully. I can’t guarantee that. I can remove the part of her that hurts, but she’ll always be missing an hour of her life. How will she respond to that? Will she ignore it? Will she pretend it doesn’t bother? Or will it haunt her for the rest of her life, knowing there was something there that isn’t there any more?”

“What should I do?”

“I don’t know, Mrs. Miren. I think you’ll have to take things with Ecuila carefully. Listen to her. Pay attention to her. Understand that she’s not going to be the same person she was before this happened and move on from there.”

She nodded and left the room. Anla thoughtfully chose what she was going to say before she ensorceled Ecuila, cutting out her thoughts from just before the man tackled her to just after Ashrith brought her the rest of the way home. She still had months worth of memories of laying in bed, not speaking to people for some reason, and she had memories of two strangers coming into her room to speak with her about something. Anla told her parents as much before she left, wishing them well and hoping that Ecuila had a quick recovery, both for her body and her mind.

Anla found Al pacing near Telbarisk, who was slumped against a tree. “Where’s Raulin?” she asked.

“I needed to think so he took over speaking to the town. They like him here anyway.”

“Think? Is that why you got up so abruptly?”

He sighed, looking at her with dark brown eyes mired in pain. “I know who the killer is,” he said quietly.

“Al? How?”

“When she was describing the man. There must be thousands of men in Gheny that have all the features she mentioned. Perhaps even a few with an ear clipped from getting mugged on his way back to school from a bar. But how could a guy like me, a little guy, break people’s bones and cause that kind of damage, the kind that stops hearts? How could a man run over a hundred miles in a week?

“Anla,” he said, looking down at his hands, “I know him. His name is Cove Gray. He graduated with me from Amandorlam. He’s a wizard.”