A Charm for Draius: A Novel of the Broken Kaskea (The Broken Kaskea Series Book 1)

by REEVE, LAURA E.

  Finally, after several moments, Mahri answered. “One does not see the lodestone. You will feel it long before you come close to it. Many mortals will not live through a close encounter with the lodestone. It has been built from death and its purpose remains: our destruction.”

  The hair rose on the back of her neck. The fear the Phrenii felt for this thing would be a heart-stopping fear for a mortal. She remembered how Perinon had been affected when the Phrenii first saw the necromantic symbol. It wouldn’t be good for the Tyrran people to discover that the Phrenii, their immortal protectors, could be so frightened—or that they believed they could be destroyed.

  “I think we should keep information about the lodestone between myself, Officer Lornis, and perhaps our captain.” She looked at Lornis and their eyes met, his glance as wary as her tone. Perhaps she shouldn’t even speak to the captain about the lodestone, since it might not be relevant to the case.

  “A wise decision,” Mahri said. “And, for the King’s safety, the Kaskea shard should be found as soon as possible. Our dreams have been touched, and any madness that occurs within our circle will damage his mind.”

  She swallowed, hard, picturing Perinon when he was young and happy. When he was just her younger cousin Peri. The warning suddenly hit home.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  First Farmday, Erin Three, T.Y. 1471

  I consider last night to be a success, even if my employer doesn’t. We bound his assistant’s blood to a shard of the Kaskea and had him attempt to walk the Void, using my charms to hide him from the Phrenii.

  I can’t express my loathing for that milk-and-toast assistant—why can he go where I cannot? The man is weak; he barely hung onto his sanity during the process. We had to tie him down to prevent him from hurting himself. Afterward, he babbled about creatures hunting him; I assume he meant the Phrenii. Luckily, he isn’t privy to our plans and can’t reveal much more than our identities if the Phrenii catch him and rip open his mind. But that’s risk enough, so I put as much power into my charms as possible.

  Next we’ll try to have him pull me into the Void with him. I’ll prepare a charm to assist this, based upon Nherissa’s notes.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Families

  Orders to Admiral Purje-Nelja Ahjo, given under my hand and the Crown of Tyrra: You are authorized command of fifteen commissioned ships of the Naval Guard, and hereby ordered to subdue and seize all vessels and effects of Frisson Rhobar, operating within the Auberei Archipelago. Should Rhobar produce letters of marque issued by the Groygan Lords Council, treatment and process of persons in Rhobar’s command shall fall within the rights of a Power at war, but such letters must be returned to the Crown with all speed.

  —Signed by Master of Arms Meran-Kolme Sevoi, Third Markday, Erin Two, T.Y. 1471

  The Phrenii left Nherissa’s tower, traveling faster than normal horses. Draius and Lornis set a pace that allowed them to get back to Betarr Serasa by mid-day. As they rode and talked, Lornis threw his shoulders back and his hair rippled behind him, giving him that classic look of the nomadic hunter. By contrast, the humid air weighed down both her hair and spirits. She felt disheveled—and irritated at herself for being concerned about her appearance.

  They were thoroughly chilled by the time they stopped at the Sea Serpent for mid-day meal. The recent publicity hadn’t hurt the tavern’s business; in fact, quite the opposite. There wasn’t a free table to be found. Berin hailed them from across the room, inviting them to join him and Wendell. He was in his usual roaring good humor, but Wendell was pale and withdrawn.

  “You don’t look well,” Lornis said to Wendell, after greetings were exchanged. He threw his cloak back, but Draius kept her cloak tightly wrapped about her; the common room wasn’t warm enough for her.

  Wendell had dark circles under his eyes and his skin looked pale and clammy.

  “Oh, he’s just tired from celebrating the wage increase I gave him yesterday,” said Berin, clapping his large hand on Wendell’s back.

  “I might have caught a chill last night,” Wendell said with dignity, after giving his employer a strange look. While Berin attacked his chunky soup with gusto, Wendell made motions and only sipped the broth.

  Raivata took their orders for soup and beer, giving Lornis a quick wink. A large steaming bowl was quickly brought for her deputy, but Draius had to wait. Another batch was heating. She rolled her eyes while Lornis dug into his bowl with enthusiasm.

  “You should get a tonic against the Fever,” said Lornis between mouthfuls, pointing his spoon as Wendell. “If you worsen, you could consult the Phrenii.”

  Both Wendell and Draius cringed, knowing what was coming. Berin slammed his hand on the table, his booming voice clearly heard above the other voices in the room.

  “Darkness will take the Stars before an employee of mine has to use those creatures for healing! Country farmers might run to the Phrenii every time they stub their toes, but here in the cities we only use them as a last resort! Even then, most refuse the healing.”

  “I apologize if I offended you.” Lornis frankly met Berin’s glare. “Your ways may be different. My matriarch might rely on the Phrenii more than others.”

  “No offense taken.” Berin’s anger seemed to evaporate, but his voice was still somber. “Everyone thinks the creatures are infallible—but they’re not, you know—they couldn’t save us from the Fevers.” He took a long swig of his beer.

  Draius winced, thinking about how fallible she had just found the creatures to be. She knew the real pain behind Berin’s bluster, and how hard he’d been hit during the epidemic. Only an adolescent himself, he watched his parents, his twin brother, and his younger sister die. Even worse, he was left without his lineage when the Fevers abated. By some strange twist of fate, the Fevers wiped out all the Tarmo-Nelja down to Berin and one of his cousins. The Tarmo-Nelja stars still shone in the night skies, but no matriarch was left to manage the lineage and their reliquary was empty of the living.

  Berin’s last living cousin quickly ran for the cover of the Vakuutis-Nelja, marrying an underwriter and changing his lineal name. Several matriarchs offered to contract Berin and take him in, but he refused, not willing to give up the Tarmo-Nelja lineage that was now meaningless—except for the comfort of his ancestors.

  Berin offered an apology. “Anyone here will tell you I’m more wind than weather, so to speak.” He held out his beefy hand to Lornis. “And when it comes to phrenic ‘healing’—I only wonder what our physicians could do if the Phrenii would only share their knowledge.”

  Draius didn’t bother to bring up the old argument: the Phrenii tried to train mortal physicians, but the minds of men didn’t comprehend the world as seen by the creatures. She and Berin had several heated discussions on this in the past; Berin saw the Phrenii as hoarders of knowledge and there was no swaying him.

  Her stew arrived, and another bowl of soup appeared at Lornis’s elbow. He dug into it. As she ate, the hot meal began to warm her. She threw back her cloak, forgetting her collar didn’t hide her entire neck.

  “By the Horn, Draius, what happened to you?” Wendell asked, staring at the bruises.

  “I had a small problem with a recalcitrant collar. It must have been starched too heavily.”

  Wendell watched her, uncertain about her joke. His eyes were wide.

  Berin shrugged. “Well, Draius, you may not want to talk about those bruises on your neck, but at least you could explain that little ditty in the H&H this morning.”

  “I haven’t read it. Why?”

  They were astounded that she hadn’t seen the paper yet. Berin got a copy from Mainos, which he laid before Draius with a flourish. “Under Letters to the Editor, submitted anonymously.”

  She stared at what appeared to be a children’s rhyme:

  Sing a charm for Draius,

  A killer’s on the loose,

  And if she deigns to pay us,

  The killer’s for the noose.

  Mak
e a charm for Draius,

  Some magic ‘round her neck

  And if she won’t obey us,

  Rein her into check.

  Rolling up the pamphlet and gripping it tight, she looked around the tavern and realized she was the subject of many covert glances, even blatant observation. In a society where matriarchs chose primary names carefully to avoid overlaps within a generation, there was no doubt as to who was being referenced in the rhyme.

  “Come on, Lornis, we’ve got to go.” She stood up, sending her chair skittering into Raivata, who shrieked and nearly tipped her tray onto patrons at the nearby table. The shriek caused Draius, as well as others, to flinch. Raivata turned and glared at her.

  “Hmm?” Lornis had his mouth full of stew, unfazed by shrieking serving girls or tipping trays. Loath to leave his lunch, he quickly stuffed in more spoonfuls and was still chewing furiously when they mounted their horses.

  •••

  Guard Headquarters was busy. It was shift change for the watch, which meant inventorying and issuing weapons, checking rosters and rearranging duties: all the normal business of the City Guard.

  Draius and Lornis made their way to the captain’s office and came face to face with Jan, who was just leaving.

  “Greetings, Lieutenant Commander.” Jan used her full rank, not shortening it to “Commander,” as usually done during casual conversation. He ignored Lornis, standing behind her.

  “Greetings.” She nodded her head in response, but Jan was already turning away in an obvious snit. What had he been doing in the captain’s office?

  Captain Rhaffus was finishing a meeting with the watch commanders and he motioned Draius into the office. The three watch commanders gave her surreptitious glances as they filed by her. When the captain saw the crumpled pamphlet in Draius’s hand, he grinned.

  “I had Andreas brought in when I first read the paper. He was screaming to see a magistrate immediately.” Rhaffus snorted. “A professional editor wouldn’t publish such a thing.”

  “So you had to question him in front of a magistrate?” Draius asked.

  “Yes, he demanded his full rights. He pushes the King’s Law as far as possible.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He wouldn’t tell us anything about the note other than it was left anonymously, and the magistrate ruled we couldn’t imprison him since the poem caused no harm to body or honor.”

  Lornis was astounded. “What about the strangulation charm? That’s the connection, that’s the harm!”

  The captain wilted Lornis with a glare. “Would you want to convince a king’s magistrate that an inanimate object could suddenly up and strangle someone?”

  “Ah. No, I wouldn’t, ser.”

  “I’m not sure that Andreas knows anything more than he’s said.” Draius thoughtfully fingered the heavy inked paper in her hands.

  “And I’m sure he’s involved in this up to his dirty neck. I can’t wait for another chance at him.” Rhaffus and Andreas had a long history of conflict going back to when Rhaffus was OIC of Investigation and Andreas first took over the small publication that originally catered to poets. Andreas built up the circulation of the H&H at the expense of Rhaffus’s cases.

  “We got the report from Norsis, regarding Tellina’s body.” Rhaffus gestured them toward the chairs in front of his desk and handed an opened packet to Draius. She eagerly scanned its contents.

  “Norsis read Taalo’s report and believes the apothecary was correct in his analysis of the poison, because Reggis’s body exhibits signs of poisoning by wolfbane. This plant can be lethal and quick acting, depending upon the concentration, how empty the victim’s stomach is, and sol-bil-tee… “ Rhaffus waved his hand vaguely, dismissing the technicalities. These days, with scientific discoveries and mechanical marvels buffeting everyone, he left the mental exercises up to his OICs.

  “Which begs the question: if Taalo is involved in the murders, why give us an honest evaluation of the poison?” Lornis said.

  “Maybe he was compelled by professional obligation.” Rhaffus shrugged.

  “But Tellina wasn’t poisoned.” Draius put her finger on the vexing contradiction.

  “I figured you’d notice that. Reggis’s heart stopped by the time he was eviscerated, but the same was not true for Tellina. Much more blood—he was alive for quite some time.”

  Rhaffus’s teeth showed in his signature aggressive grin, but Lornis grimaced. “Sounds like a public execution in Groyga.”

  “Which won’t sit well with our Sareenian population, even though several of their City-States practice similar barbaric executions. This is yet another detail that can’t be made public.” The captain’s voice was final, closing the subject. He leaned back in his chair, making it creak.

  “What’s your working theory, Draius?” Rhaffus sounded like her old mentor again.

  “I assume multiple people are involved.” She slipped into present tense, her gaze unfocused as she pictured the scenario. “They know the councilman has rented both rooms for the evening, and they arrange a meeting with him. They reach the second floor from the alley using a ladder. One of Reggis’s conspirators, because I’m sure he’s involved in something unseemly, climbs into the third room and he allows himself a glass of friendly wine with them. The wine poisons him within moments. Now the murderer has only a short amount of time. This works better with an accomplice, who comes up the ladder with ‘supplies’ and helps drag the body through the wardrobe to the next room, which is also locked. They go through their ceremony, for whatever reason, and butcher Reggis.

  “They had about fifteen minutes, by my estimate, before the barmaid came to the door. By that time they took off their protective clothing, and probably used it to wrap their tools and mementos. Whether the window in the third room was locked from the inside now seems to be a rumor; Lieutenant Lornis found no proof that it was truly locked.”

  “What about Tellina?”

  “For this to fit, Tellina must be involved with the conspirators somehow. He learns of the murder when the criers take the news to the streets. He might have confronted the others, perhaps he wanted out. Since they were willing to sacrifice him, he must have already fulfilled his purpose.”

  The captain spread his hands in question. “It makes a good story, but how does the next victim tie in? And what is the goal of this conspiracy you’ve invented?”

  “I don’t know, and I don’t know what part Vanhus played. He specialized in antiquities, and the Phrenii have suggested— “

  “The Phrenii?” Rhaffus looked aghast.

  “I know they’re not considered reliable sources—”

  “That’s not the point. We can’t take this into the Halls of King’s Justice, using the Phrenii for our support.” Rhaffus rubbed his bearded jaw. “Just think how Andreas would dramatize that. I won’t have it.”

  She swallowed her protests about the bigger problems: the use of a stolen Kaskea shard, use that might break Perinon’s mind, and the lodestone that caused the false-spring storms and created such fear in the Phrenii. The captain would say that it wasn’t her job to worry about those issues—and he’d be right. She had to solve murders and thefts, perpetrated by mere mortals.

  Clearing her throat, she started over. “We’re not close to bringing this before a magistrate, ser. I don’t have suspects, other than Taalo, and only because he purposely put the councilman’s finger and ring into that charm. It’s a compelling connection, but it only connects him to Reggis, not the other two victims.”

  “What about the poem in the H&H?” asked Lornis.

  “Someone has a bizarre need for publicity.” Draius shrugged. “I don’t see anything in the poem that gives me better insight.”

  “Ah, yes, the publicity…” Captain Rhaffus was looking down at his schedule, and Draius thought he was preparing to move on to other business. Instead, he looked up and fixed her with his keen glance.

  “I’ll be honest, Draius. The H&H is reflecting pu
blic attitudes and they’re not looking upon the Guard kindly, at least with respect to these murders. I’ve also had complaints from your fellow officers; some think I should have chosen someone with more experience to replace Erik.”

  She flushed, realizing how perfect Jan’s timing had been: he voiced his “complaint” in front of the watch commanders, not in a private session with the captain. She also knew how precise Captain Rhaffus was in his choice of words. If Rhaffus said multiple officers had made complaints, then someone other than her husband had also objected to her selection.

  “You are each filling positions above your actual rank.” The captain’s tone was heavy as he looked back down at his desk. “While I have faith in both of you, I may have to accede to this pressure. I have to consider the morale of the City Guard and right now, we all need some results. Soon. Do you understand, Commander Draius?”

  Draius read the captain’s warning perfectly, as well as Jan’s. Because he was now the deputy of City Defense, the politics within the Guard would expect Jan to campaign for his commander as a possible replacement for Draius. While the captain probably assumed Jan’s motives to be “for the best interests of the Guard,” Draius knew her husband better. He preferred her disgraced and no threat to his own career, regardless of what it meant to the City Guard. Of course, Lornis would be similarly tainted when Jan was finished.

  “Yes, ser.” Draius tried to sound optimistic in spite of the hard knot in her stomach. “We’ll get you results.”

  •••

  Draius sent Lornis to pry Vanhus’s business records away from the Purje-Kolme. She sent a Pettaja-Viisi clerk along with Lornis, giving him additional support. Ponteva and Miina had departed to interview shop owners and neighbors near Taalo’s laboratory, dragging along a reluctant Usko, who protested that he didn’t do “field work.” All the other Pettaja at her disposal were out trying to find traces of Taalo.