by Beth Lyons
She pushed her hair away from her face. “Do you really think so? I’m a simple woman who—”
Laughter burst from me. “You are not! You’re the most complex person I know. You’re not even one person, Even!”
“Hush! There you go again. Private detectives are supposed to be private. Yet you insist—”
I stopped in front of a flower shop. “I tried to help you, and what did I get for my efforts? Half truths, promises, vows of secrecy. I’ve been patient, Even. I have. Have I sought you out? Have I asked you a single thing about Marilye?”
“Well, yes. You said—”
I continued as if Even hadn’t spoken. “No, instead I’m out here every day looking. There’s a murderer—” I lowered my voice as a woman left the flower shop. “There’s a murderer out there, walking free, and it’s because of me.” I glared at Even. “So let’s go find your wayward orphan so I can get back to my job.” With that I took off with quick strides.
Even scurried to catch up with me. I hoped my anger would dissipate with my hurried steps.
You’ve got to learn to control your anger, I told myself. You can’t be lashing out at everyone for your mistake. Scrying takes time, but Underwood—
Even gasped, and I knew. I knew in an instant that she’d been detecting my thoughts. “That is it,” I said, barely able to contain myself. “That is the literal end, Even. I thought we were friends—”
“I just saw Marilye.” Even grabbed my arm and squeezed. “She crossed by on Haywright.”
“That’s more than a block away! I don’t—” But Even had taken off running. Riksah, spooked by Even’s sudden departure, leaped into a tree and hissed at me. I looked from the cat to the mage and took off after Even. If she had truly seen Marilye, I couldn’t let her face the sorcerer alone.
I crossed Jackton and veered down Haywright. Late morning, the streets were fairly empty, and Haywright was almost entirely devoid of people. I saw two dwarves talking on the sidewalk, a lone elf coming toward me with a bundle over one shoulder, and Even Weymoor. She was glaring at the elf as if it were his fault that Marilye had disappeared.
“Even?” I put my hand on her shoulder, and she jumped. “Even, she’s gone.” I nodded at the elf as he passed. “If it was even her to begin with.”
“It was Marilye. I just—” Even turned around in a circle. “She was here, Vox. You must believe me.”
“I do,” I said. “Maybe she’s in one of these buildings.” Jamming my hands in my pockets I shrugged and tried to sound carefree. “I really don’t have time to look today. If she’s living on Haywright, we’ll find her.” The last thing I wanted was an audience when I confronted Marilye Forlone.
Even stared up the street, watching the elf with the bundle turn onto Jackton. “I was so sure. She was clear as clear. Like a beacon, just bobbing down the street.”
“Come on,” I laced my arm through hers. “Let’s go roust your orphan girl from her love nest. Let me help you ruin someone else’s day, alright?”
The first apartment building was a bust, and we were soon done with the second of the three. The landlord there didn’t have any young girl tenants, and a silver wort didn’t change his story.
As we walked up to the last building I said, “This isn’t even my case! If Boleian finds out that I’m using agency money on bribing your witnesses...”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Vox. It’s for a good cause. Don’t you want to know that Fara’s safe? She’s only a few years your junior. You’d want someone to watch over you the same, wouldn’t you?”
“I left the Olden for that very reason. Nosy old elves with their prejudices! Let people alone, I say.”
“Spoken like a bard. But Vox, chaos is a tricky mistress. You’ll do well to remember that.” She knocked on the door marked “Manager”.
“I have missed our chats, Even. Thank the goddess you’ve returned to ensure my moral education.”
“Being snide won’t serve you—”
The door opened a crack, and an eye peered out.
“Hello!” Even’s voice was bright and friendly. “I’m Sister Weymoor of St. Albec’s. I believe one of our parishioners recently moved in – Fara Fram?”
The man looked at Even and then his eyes turned to me. I shrugged.
“Nah,” he said. “Don’t know the name.”
“She’s young, blonde.” Even held out her hands. “Little chunky. My height…. ish.”
“Great description... ish.” I muttered, and Even jabbed an elbow at me and smiled at the man.
“Nah,” he said. “No girl renters.”
“Do you have any new renters?” I swept my hand down toward the floor and came up with a silver wort. “You dropped this,” I said and handed the coin to him.
He took it saying, “Always new renters, yeah? Treefall is a, a burgeoning neighborhood.” He pronounced the word carefully as if afraid to break it. “Beat Weekly said so, just last month.”
“Treefall is a street,” I said. “Not a neighborhood.” The man sounded suspiciously like my landlord, ready to raise rent at the first hint of positive buzz about the location.
“Justified praise, in my opinion!” Even said heartily. “I’ve always enjoyed the leafy gentility of Treefall.” With that she stepped closer to the man. “Tell me about your new renters. I bet you’ve seen them about the place. Nothing escapes your gaze, I’m sure.”
“‘Leafy gentility’? Come on,” I said softly, but the man lapped up Even’s words. He leaned against the edge of the door. “Now you say it, gotta new guy in 4B. Quiet, odd hours. I seen him with a girl once or twice this past week.”
“Thank you. Albec’s blessings on you.” Even started down the hallway.
“Oi! Where’d you think you’re going? Private property!”
I sighed and stood in front of him. “You really want to come between a nun and her parishioner? Hate to see something like that make the papers.” I put my hands in my pockets and looked around. “Nice place. I’d hate to hear it called a palace of sin, wouldn’t you?” I flashed a smile. “We’ll be out of your hair in no time. This probably isn’t even the right apartment.”
Taking the stairs two at a time I arrived at apartment 4B in time to see Even slot the key and unlock the door.
Chapter 11 Fara’s Hideaway
I hadn’t expected Even’s key to work. She’d found the key among Fara Fram’s belongings at the orphanage and extrapolated, based on the word of some school children, that Fara’s secret apartment was on Treefall. And here we were, about to enter the hideaway.
I reached the door just as Even was about to open it. “Wait,” I hissed. “Did you knock? She might be home. She might not be alone.”
“All the more reason to surprise her. Such wanton behavior shouldn’t be—”
“You’re taking this nun act a little too far.”
“She’s 18! A child.”
That stung. At 23 I’m only a few years past Fara Fram, and I’m anything but a child. Plus, those words, coming from Even? It’s easy to forget that Even is a 62 year old woman in the body of a 22 year old, mostly because so often she acts like a kid – rash, impulsive, inattentive.
Before I could stop her, Even opened the apartment door. The main room, large but cluttered, stood empty. I grabbed Even’s arm as she started to enter and said, “I wanna detect, OK?”
“But she might be in another room; you said so yourself.” Even kept her voice low. “Maybe hurt or bound or something.”
The main room had a couch, a chair, a table, and an inset kitchen area. The furniture looked sturdy but drab – typical fare for a furnished place. No rugs on the floor, and the walls looked dingy. Whoever the guy was renting the place – Fara’s mysterious gentleman – he wasn’t a rich man.
Even seemed to share my thoughts. I heard her mutter, “Could do with a coat of paint and some plants.”
Toward the back of the main room were two doors. We each grabbed a doorknob and turned. I had the be
droom, so that meant that Even’s was the bathroom. I stepped back into the main room and said, “Empty.”
“Me, too.”
“No Fara, no mysterious man.”
Even let out a breath. “Almost lunch time. Maybe they went out.”
I didn’t think so. The apartment felt truly empty, devoid of any trace of habitation, but we were here, and as granddad used to say, “In for a silver, in for a gold.” I moved to the middle of the room. “I’ll try detect magic now. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
“I’ll check the bathroom – may be a clue there.”
I was secretly relieved that Even wasn’t going to watch me cast my spell. I took a deep breath, looked down at my feet, and shut my eyes. “I’m looking—” My voice cracked. “OK Vox. One, two. One, two, three, four! I’m looking for you both high and low. I’m looking for you both night and day.” I slowly moved around the living room. My eyes wide open, mind straining to sense something that shouldn’t be traceable. “Looking to find, looking to find, looking to find your magic.” Nothing.
I moved toward the bedroom. “Searching right here, searching right there. I’m just looking, just looking, looking to find magic.”
I felt something as I crossed the threshold into the bedroom. A drop in the pool of my mind. A pebble skittering across a pond.
A plain bed took up the center of the room with a night stand at the far side. I noticed a sheaf of papers on the stand. Sheet music, by the look. Still humming my tune, I reached for the top sheet.
Before I ever took up barding lessons with Underwood, I had a little knack for sensing emotion within objects. I can’t describe it any better than that – I pick up an object, a pen, a scarf, a sheet of music, perhaps, and I can hear a moment of thought or emotion from the owner. It doesn’t always work – even now with months of magical study under my belt. The gift comes and goes as it pleases. “It would be ever so helpful if it worked now,” I said softly and picked up the sheet music. Nothing.
“Vox?” Even called from the bathroom. “Any luck with your spell?”
“Maybe – not sure yet.”
With a sigh I dropped the paper, which drifted to the floor. I started to leave it, but it felt wrong to dirty up the place, so I bent to pick it up and noticed a bit of cloth under the bed. I dropped to my knees to fetch the cloth and discovered Fara Fram’s dead body.
At least I assumed it was Fara Fram. It was dark under the bed, but there was certainly a body there, and who else would it be? “Uh, Even? Could you come here?” On my knees on the far side of the bed, I looked to the bedroom door. I felt unable to move. I heard a voice in the main room but couldn’t make out the words. “I’m in here!” I called again. “With, with Fara, I think.” The last part came out as a squeak.
The bedroom door began to swing open. I said, “Even, help me. We need to—”
“Police! Hands up where I can see them.” Jesskah Morningstar stood in the doorway with a baton in her hand. “You’re under arrest for break— Vox Swift?”
For a moment I was speechless. “Hiya Jess. Kah. Jesskah. Officer Morningstar.” I braced against the mattress and stood. “How can I help you?”
Jesskah called over her shoulder, “Secured. Suspect in custody.”
“Suspect?” I kept my eyes from looking at the bed. “What seems to be the trouble?” Please don’t say Murder.
“We had a report of breaking and entering, and—”
I laughed with relief. “No! We have a key! What a misunderstanding.” I walked toward Jesskah with my hands raised. “There’s no break-in here. Honestly. I can explain,” I said. “Even can explain.”
Jesskah moved from the doorway, and then I was in the relative safety of the living room. At the very least I was no longer kneeling beside a dead girl.
Jesskah folded her arms across her chest and looked at me.
“Uh, Officer Morningstar, as I said, Even has a key, so we’re not—”
“All clear.” This from a human man standing in the tiny kitchen area.
I turned around, looking for Even. “Where’s Even? She was—” I pointed at the bathroom, which stood open and empty.
“This is Officer Blane,” Jesskah gestured at the man. “And of course you know me. Now,” she tucked her baton under her arm and flipped open a notebook. “Why don’t you start from the beginning? I assume you’re going to claim that you’re working on a case?”
“I am working a case! I mean, I’m helping my friend look for a missing girl.”
“This is the friend you keep mentioning?”
“Yes. She’s got the key.” I turned around in a circle, as if half expecting to see Even stretched out on the couch. “A girl is missing from the orphanage—” I pulled up short, realizing that the less I said, the better. I needed to get all three of us far away from the body under the bed.
I gave Jesskah my winningest smile. “I’m happy to discuss this at Central. No doubt you’ll have paperwork to do.” I shrugged. “Let’s make it easier on you, yeah?”
Jesskah looked at the other officer. He shrugged, so she put her notebook away and walked toward me. She was wearing the standard dark blue patrol uniform and not crime scene investigator togs. “You promise to come along quietly?” she asked me.
“Of course! We’re on the same side.” I moved into the hallway. No sign of Even out here either. She must have heard the cops and slipped out a window or something. Would I ever learn that I can’t trust her? I’d have quite an earful to give Even Weymoor when I saw her again. If she’d only stayed, she could have cleared this up in about three seconds, and Fara’s body would have been in Jesskah Morningstar’s capable hands, but instead I was heading to Central with a police escort while Fara Fram’s lifeless body waited for someone else to discover her.
An hour and a half later I walked down Central’s main staircase. I hadn’t been arrested, hadn’t even been cited, but I had a lot of forms to sign before Jesskah let me go.
The large clock over the sergeant’s desk showed ten to three, and I could imagine what Boleian would have to say when he saw me. But when I told him about Fara Fram, well I’d probably avoid a lecture. No, knowing Boleian, I’d at least delay the lecture. Technically it was time theft, the work I’d been doing with Even. I should have been finishing (starting) the reports, but instead I’d taken a job that was neither paid nor approved.
But a girl was dead, another girl, and that trumped any annoyance that Boleian might have for how I’d spent the day.
“Vox! Finally. You’ve put us behind schedule, you know.” Even and Riksah were sitting on the steps outside the building. She tossed a small vial of green liquid into the air and caught it. “Not really your fault, I know. Which is why— Where are you going?”
How do you tell someone such news? With the Forlone case people told me bad news, not the other way around. I walked past Even hoping that words would find me.
Even caught my jacket. “I shouldn’t have left the apartment. I’m not good at apologizing. It takes wisdom to know how— That’s not true either. Sometimes I just don’t understand.” Even shook her head. Her face was white and drawn.
She knew about Fara. The expression on her face told me as much, but how? Had one of her spells finally worked? I said, “I’m sorry about—”
“Don’t apologize all the time! For love of the gods, you didn’t— Vox, you didn’t do anything wrong, so please don’t apologize. That’s the silliest thing in the world.” She grabbed my hand and squeezed.
“I found Fara,” I said. The words came out as a whisper, so I repeated myself.
Even looked around as though Fara might be standing right beside us. “Now that is grand news, Vox!” Her smile faltered. “You didn’t – you didn’t see her at Central, did you? She’s not in trouble? Arrested?”
I shook my head. Even didn’t know, but how could I tell her the truth? “We need Boleian.”
“Vox! Wait. I can make bail, if I have to. I don’t know what the nuns will s
ay, but Fara’s likely not the first orphan girl to run afoul of the law, but then, why didn’t my locate spell work?”
“She’s dead, Even. Fara Fram.” I kept my voice low. “Your orphan girl is dead.”
Even’s eyes rolled back in her head, and I barely caught her before she hit the sidewalk.
Chapter 12 Fire and Fear
As usual Riksah was waiting for us at Boleian’s office. She seemed to know where I wanted to go before I did. On the walk to the office I’d filled Even in on the details of finding Fara’s body under the bed. I’d only had the quick look in the dim light of the bedroom before Jesskah interrupted.
“So you’re not sure it was Fara?” Even asked.
“I saw a dead girl under a bed and that’s as far as I got. I put two and two together.”
“Who knows how many girls he brings to that shabby apartment. There was a ton of makeup in the bathroom. More than one girl’s worth.”
“You weren’t there to see, were you?” The goodwill I’d been feeling for Even evaporated as I remembered that she’d disappeared at the apartment. “If you hadn’t been so quick to dodge responsibility….”
Even stopped at the foot of the office stairs. “Fine. You’re right. Happy?” She blew hair from her eyes. “I shouldn’t have left. I panicked and cast invisibility and—”
“Typical. I don’t know why I was surprised. Just once I wish you— No, never mind.” I started up the stairs.
“Say your piece. You obviously want to.” Even spread her arms out. “Please lecture me.”
Why had I bothered? Nothing I could say would make any difference. Even Weymoor had been erratic when I met her and why would a mere three months temper that behavior? If you want constancy, I told myself, better to look to a paladin and not some half-mage cleric.
“Nothing?” Even’s voice cut the silence. “Mark this day: Vox Swift is speechless.”
“You want to know what your problem is? You would rather hide behind magic than confront life head on.”
I didn’t wait for a response but headed up the stairs. Riksah trotted beside me, her tail straight up. But a glance back told me that Even hadn’t moved. Against my better judgment, I called down to her. “Are you alright? This isn’t a hold person spell is it? You can move, right?”
